To Be Heard
by musewars
Summary: Most musicians can't fathom not performing, no matter what demons may stand in their way. Sometimes they just need a little push. Mitchie/Shane. Warning: contains mild language, implied violence, injury, and intense/possibly scary situations.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: This story contains mild language, implied violence, and intense/possibly scary situations._**

_"Though one may be overpowered... a cord of three strands is not quickly broken." - Ecclesiastes 4:12_

Mitchie Torres couldn't believe her ears. "What did you say?"

Her father flipped another hamburger on the grill, a proud smile spread across his face. "She _said_ you're going to Camp Rock."

"Well actually, we're going," her mother quickly corrected. "Connie's Catering is going camping. Business is slow in the summer. This is a steady job and you get to go to camp at a discounted rate."

Mitchie let out a gasped scream of excitement, still in disbelief that her parents were actually telling her this news. It had never occurred to her until now that her mom's catering business could get her a ticket to what, if only to her, was the dream summer destination. A whole summer of music; what could be better?

"But you have to help out in the kitchen," her mom added.

Mitchie quickly nodded. Helping out in the kitchen seemed the least she could do right now. She nearly bounced into her mother's arms to give her a hug. "Thank you! Thank you, like, a million times!"

Her mom let out a laugh. "Alright, settle and go change. Dinner's almost ready."

Oh right, she was still wearing her Barney's Burgers uniform. Hard to believe only a few moments before she was dragging her feet and in no way looking forward to dinner as now she was full of renewed energy. Giving her mom another tight hug and attempting not to squeal again, Mitchie bounced her way to the sliding back door and into the kitchen. Inside she found her older sister standing at the fridge.

"Jake; guess what? You won't believe what just happened! Oh, do you need some help with that?" Her words came out in rapid fire almost within one breath.

Jake shifted the condiments and package of hamburger buns stacked in her hands as she pushed closed the refrigerator door with her elbow. "Nope, I got it. And let me guess; your 'liter the house with Camp Rock pamphlets' campaign actually worked?"

Mitchie paused only a moment before nodding and letting out another muffled squeal. She then stepped in front of her sister to hold open the screen door.

"Well, congratulations. Oh, thanks." Jake took a step onto the back patio. "I really didn't think it would happen."

"I know! Isn't it great?"

Jake let out a chuckle.

Making sure her sister was safely outside, Mitchie slid the screen door back into place then ran towards her room.

#

Jake carried her load over to the patio table and set it down. Beginning to arrange them in some sort of order, she said, "I think you just made her decade."

Her father chuckled. "Better enjoy that while it lasts, Connie."

"Steve," his wife shot back. She turned to her daughter and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. "He is right though; once it sinks in that we're going to be there too, she'll settle again."

Jake's eyebrows rose. "We?"

"Yep, you and me." Connie put a spoon into the potato salad. "And don't give me that look. I'm going to need all the help I can get this summer."

"What about Dad?"

"Don't you worry about me, honey. I'll be here taking care of the important things." Steve answered. Taking the plate his wife had handed him a few moments before, he began placing the cooked burgers onto it. "Like earning bread money, water the flowers, that sort of thing."

"Lenore will be as well to help," Connie offered as if knowing her work assistant was accompanying them would raise her daughter's mood. Thinking quickly, she added, "Plus, you'll get paid for your services, of course."

Jake let out a small sigh, yet flashed a forced smile to her mom. It would do no good arguing or being upset over it. The idea of spending the summer working with her mom wasn't what bothered her; she did, after all, work at Connie's Catering regularly. It was the idea of spending her summer working among a bunch of teenaged rock star wannabes.

That was when she noticed the rather large stain on her shirt. How had that gotten there? Letting out a louder sigh, Jake grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at it.

"Oh, honey, no, that won't work," her mother advised. "You need to wash that out."

Jake threw her head back. Goodbye, favorite white tee. "I'll be back."

Heading inside, Jake went upstairs to the room she shared with Mitchie. She found the door closed and, to her dismay, locked. Knocking she called, "Mitchie?"

Her voice was drowned out by a male's from inside, which was singing. Jake knocked again. "Mitchie, come on! Open the door!"

Nothing.

"MITCHIE!"

This time her sister heard her. The door came open, and there she was, the smile still on her face. "Oh, sorry Jake; I didn't hear you. What happened to your shirt?"

Jake made her way to the dresser and began rummaging for a new shirt, not answering.

"Want to borrow one of mine?" Mitchie offered. She walked over to the television and turned down the volume, then reached into her own dresser drawer. "Here, you can have my pink one."

Jake couldn't help but be surprised at her sister's offer. Being less than two years apart in age they were close, yet sharing clothes wasn't exactly a common occurrence. "You're in a good mood."

"A good mood? Try a great one." Mitchie pulled out the shirt and tossed the pink shirt towards Jake. "Just wait, this is gonna be the best summer ever!"

"You, my dear, have been watching too much Disney Channel." Jake joked at her sister's choice of words. Mitchie rolled her eyes and headed to the hallway. Jake sighed; she had left the television running. Walking over, Jake reached the screen in time to find a reporter standing next to two young men, both with straight dark hair. One of the pair still had a bit of baby fat around his cheeks. Jake recognized them almost immediately.

"Hey Mitchie, it's your favorite boy band wannabes!" she called with a smirk.

"What are you-?" Mitchie began, poking her head back around the doorway. Her eyes fell on the two young men on the screen with the reporter, which caused her to step into the room and sit on her bed to watch. Was she seeing who she thought she was seeing right now?

"… members of Connect 3, Jason and Shane." The interviewer was saying, confirming it.

"Who are not boy-band-wannabes," Mitchie quickly hissed towards her older sister. Jake rolled her eyes, yet Mitchie didn't notice.

"First let me ask you guys; where's your other band mate?" the interviewer continued.

Jake quirked an eyebrow, curious as to what would be the reply. According to Mitchie, the question was nothing new for Connect 3. They were a very recent hit, their success somewhat of an enigma in the entertainment world. It astounded her how a band could gain such a fan base by just releasing one album - well, now two. There had been no tours, no concerts, and not as much as a public appearance outside of the handful of interviews they'd given over the last year or so. Even then, only two members had appeared to represent the group; the third was never seen.

Course, Jake pondered; maybe the enigma surrounding them was why the group was doing so well. It sure had her sister interested.

"Well, to tell you the truth, he-" began the baby-faced one, before the other sent a quick jab to his ribs.

"He has the flu. Very bad. Could barely go to the bathroom." The first member began to protest but received what appeared to be a quick slap which quieted him. "Very, _very _sick. Right Jason?"

"I, um… yeah. Very sick." Jason stuttered.

The interviewer looked between the two, clearly confused. "Alright, well, tell him that we all hope he gets well soon," she said kindly. "Now, about the cover of your new album, set to be released in a few weeks; another shadowy image, guys. If I may ask, why is that?"

"Well, that's us for you, dark and mysterious." Shane replied, shoving his hands into his pockets before shrugging. The screen filled with the image of the album. Just as the interviewer stated, the image was a blurry shot of three young men from behind.

"I'm not like that. I'd like to see more…" Jason trailed as he caught another look from his companion.

"I see." The interviewer continued. She turned to look at Shane. "You know, sooner or later, people are going to start thinking that this brother of yours doesn't-"

"Look," Shane cut across, clearly losing his temper. "If we're done with the stuff about the album, we'd like to leave." Jason looked about ready to protest, yet Shane shot him a searing look. "Now."

With that, he left the camera's view. The interviewer cleared her throat, looking awkward.

"Sorry, it's not you. He does that to everyone," Jason stated to the interviewer. Another slight moment passed in silence."See ya!" he said cheerfully, then left after his younger sibling.

"That was just weird," Jake observed as she finally turned off the television. "Are their interviews always that… short?"

Mitchie nodded, her face turned to a thoughtful frown.

Jake shook her head and returned her focus back to her destroyed shirt. "You think Spray-n-Wash will get this out?"

#

The white two story house certainly didn't give off the feel of being owned by anyone special. It was what the Gray brothers had banked on when they first bought the place a few years before. Although fairly secluded and protected by a black iron fence, it was almost perfectly sized for just the three of them, maybe a few guests… and a small recording studio in the basement.

In the comfort of his room upstairs, a nearly-seventeen year old brunette sat playing a keyboard. Considering no one else was in the house, save the family golden retriever who was currently perched on the nearby bed, he very well didn't need the headphones over his ears. Yet wearing them while he played was natural for Nate Gray. A notebook sat balanced on his knee; occasionally he would scribble something he found worth noting, only to go back to playing again. There was a song in him somewhere, and he was determined to bring it out.

Humming to himself, Nate removed the headphones and began writing again. A flash of light invaded his bedroom window as the sound of gravel being crushed by wheels came up the driveway. Nate looked towards it but didn't move. He calmly put away the sheets of music and turned off the keyboard he had been using. The door to the garage was opened and soon after, people talking in the lower portion of the house became audible.

"Nate! We're home!" The voice of his older brother echoed in the otherwise quiet house. The dog ran out of the room at the sound, barking as he went. Nate hesitated just a moment, giving himself time to put away his headphones. He could hear the television being turned on in the den so made his way there.

"Jason," Shane was saying to the other young man sitting on the opposite couch that was holding the remote and also petting the dog's head. "Turn it off."

"Aw, come on, man. My show's about to start." Jason returned his attention back to his fury companion and scratched behind his ear. "And how's my best buddy, huh Elvis? Being a good boy for Nate I hope."

"Tivo it like any other normal human being." Shane was gritting his teeth now. Suddenly a familiar tune filled the room, causing him to sit up again. "Why in the world are you watching _Phineas and Ferb_?"

"It's funny."

"What are you, five?"

"It's funny," Jason repeated, clearly not phased. "And I like picking up on all the jokes."

Shane groaned and lay back down, his eyes staring blankly at the white ceiling above him. _Great_, Nate thought. He should have known Shane would still be in a mood. He made his way into the room and took a seat next to his oldest brother.

"Hey, fro bro," Jason called, ruffling Nate's dark curls. "Feeling better?"

Nate responded to his brother's teasing with a smile of his own. He waited a few moments before saying anything. "Saw the interview."

"Oh?" Jason responded. "How'd we look?"

Nate hesitated, shooting a quick glance in Shane's direction. "The same as always."

Jason seemed satisfied by that answer. Shane just rubbed his eyes.

"Thanks for covering for me," Nate continued.

"Again," He heard Shane mutter from under his breath. Nate brought his hands together and bit his lip.

"Yeah…" Nate said quietly. "You know, I really appreciate it-"

"We know little brother." Shane interrupted. His eyes returned to the ceiling as he again put an arm over his face. "We've had this same conversation, like, a hundred times. I'm worried about you, man."

Nate didn't answer at first, but instead returned his gaze to the floor. They all knew where this conversation would go; as Shane had pointed out, they had participated in it many times. "Don't be."

That was all it took for Shane to sit up again. Staring at his younger brother directly, he said. "What do you mean, 'Don't be?' You're my brother. You can't keep living like this."

Nate didn't talk, but his posture changed. Shane had hit a nerve. "I can't help it, alright?"

"Course you can. Don't give me that-"

"Shane, lay off." Now it was Jason talking.

"Shut up, Jason!" Shane replied. He focused his attention back to Nate. "You can't keep expecting us to cover for you all the time. You heard that reporter; people are getting suspicious. There's more than one rumor going around now. And we've given them nothing in the way of proof one way or another. A few shadowy pictures will only keep them happy for so long."

Shane could see his brother tensing up as he spoke, yet this was important. "It's gone on long enough. Time to face-"

"No!" Nate stopped biting his lip long enough to retort.

"Stop being such a baby!"

"Shane…" Jason started again. This time Shane listened, albeit hesitantly. "Now, let's all watch some tv and get some grub or something. I'm starved."

Nate got up, grateful for his oldest brother having provided some distraction. "I'll go see what's in the fridge."

Shane simply scoffed. Rising from the sofa, he headed outside, muttering to himself and slamming the door behind him. Nate shifted uncomfortably a moment, his eyes wandering over to the television. On screen a green platypus was pulling on a fedora and opening a passageway to his secret agent lair. "Guess I'll go get it started."

Sensing one of his owners was headed towards the kitchen, Elvis followed at Nate's heels. As he left, Nate heard the sound of the _Indiana Jones_ theme song playing from the direction of the kitchen. Sure enough, he found his brother's cell phone sitting on the counter ringing. "Jason; phone!"

In less than a minute, Jason was there to answer the ringing box. "Hello? Oh, hey Big Man."

Nate paused midway from pulling open the freezer door. Robert Feggans, known as "Big Man" to just about everyone in the music business, was the brothers' agent. He listened for a minute as Jason exchanged pleasantries then moved into what seemed to be the meat of the conversation.

"Yeah… Oh, you did…. What'd you think?... Oh…Uh huh…"

From next to Nate's leg, Elvis let out a pitiful whine. Nate snapped back to attention.

"Sorry, boy." He made his way over to where the dog food was stored and poured some into Elvis's bowl. He no sooner did then Elvis was greedily eating it. "Hey, slow down. I don't want to clean up another mess today."

Elvis simply snorted and continued munching. Nate sighed and returned his attention to making dinner. Jason had made his way out to the back patio, still on the phone. Nate opened the freezer again and examined the contents. There wasn't much left; Nate made a mental note that he would need to start a grocery list as he dug around the shelves of frozen food. Finding a box of corn dogs and a bag of fries, he pulled them out and set the oven.

From outside came loud words full of anger. Nate paused from his work to look towards it. By the sound he could tell Shane had gone from merely annoyed to one of his moods. _'His moods'_, Nate thought bitterly. Shane wasn't just in a mood. If anything, the angry, bitter side was Shane's normal face anymore, while happiness was his 'in the mood' moments.

"Well, that was the Big Man," Jason announced as he returned from outside.

"Heard that part." Nate pulled a couple of cookie sheets from the cupboard and got to work readying the food.

"Oh cool; corn dogs." Jason's face became serious. "Morningstar, right?"

Nate nodded and lifted the green box as proof.

"Right on."

"So what'd he want?"

"Who?"

"Big Man. On the phone."

"Oh right." Jason watched Nate dump the fries onto the other cookie sheet. "I can't tell you."

"Jase-"

"I'm serious. Big Man wanted to talk to Shane, not me. He just figured I'd be more likely to answer my phone."

"Oh." Nate stole a quick glance towards the patio. "He's pissed again."

"Yep."

"Why?"

Jason shrugged. Outside Shane was still angrily yelling raising Nate's thankfulness that they lived in enough seclusion that no one else could hear his rant. He placed both cookie sheets into the oven and set the timer. Shane huffed into the kitchen, a rather dejected look across his face. Forcefully he set down the cell phone from his hand.

"Well, what is it?" Nate asked, fighting the urge to add a 'this time' to the end of the question.

Shane looked up at his brothers. His face softened just a bit, which would have given Nate relief if he hadn't seen the look in his eyes before. An idea had just come into his head, and based on the way he eyed his brothers, it didn't look good.

"Boys," he announced. "We're going to camp."


	2. Chapter 2

Nate's eyes furrowed together. "Camp? What do you mean, camp?"

"That was the record label," Shane explained. "They said I have to go to Camp Rock this summer and teach some sort of dance class… thing."

Nate sighed; now he knew what the angry talking outside was about. "And let me guess; you told them no."

"Damn straight. I don't want to waste my summer at some camp. I'm Shane Gray, for crying out loud!"

Jason and Nate shared a glance, each letting out a scoff. _"A simple 'no' would have sufficed,"_ Nate thought to himself. He dared not utter the words though.

Jason, however, could not be deterred. Tilting his head slightly while keeping his eyes on Shane, he said, "Huh; no hump yet."

"What?" Shane snorted in a tone which made Nate want to hit him on the spot.

"Well, I mean, I'd have thought your posture'd be all out-of-whack from holding that giant chip on your shoulder so long." Ignoring the evil glance his comment got, Jason continued. "I don't see why you're so worked up about it anyway; you used to love Camp Rock, remember? Back when we were campers there like, four years ago. And Uncle Brown runs the place."

Shane rolled his eyes. "Not a selling point." He let out a gloomy sigh. "But _the label _says that this camp thing will be great PR. You know, get out there and help some kids, that sort of stuff. It's the same crap they always pull so we can be marketable..."

"No, so _you_ can be marketable," Nate corrected.

Shane continued as if he had heard nothing. "… And they seem to think I'm some sort of big bad boy of the press, which they have a problem with…"

"We have a problem with it," Nate added.

"Actually, I don't really have a problem with it." Feeling his youngest brother's glare his way, Jason quickly revised his statement. "We _totally_ have a problem with that!"

A beeping sound came from the oven; dinner was ready. The conversation paused as Jason made his way over to it. Once Jason had turned off the timer and set to work, Nate turned back to Shane.

"How long will you be gone?" he asked. "And why did you say we're going? It sounds like they just want you there."

"A month or two or however long the camp lasts. It starts Monday. I just have to teach some dancing; maybe make an appearance or two at some of their events." While his words made it sound like no big deal, Shane's tone made it obvious he wasn't looking forward to any of it. He headed to the fridge to grab a drink. Nate rested his elbows on the counter and watched a moment, waiting for the rest of the answer.

"Why do you get to do all the fun stuff?" Jason sighed, the statement more for himself than his siblings. Nate and Shane both glanced his way, prompting him to add, "Sorry; ignore me."

Shane focused his attention back on Nate. The look he was giving his younger brother made Nate's skin crawl. "And you, little brother, are coming with me."

Nate blinked. "Very funny."

"I'm not joking."

Nate shook his head. "No way."

"Now, listen to me; you'd barely meet ten people a day, maybe even less. There's only like thirty or so campers there, anyway, and you wouldn't have to meet them all together."

Jason paused from grabbing plates to look at his youngest brother. Taking note of Nate's paling face he began, "Are you sure this is-"

"Jason, come on," Shane groaned. "Aren't you tired of this yet? The same stupid game-"

"It's not a game," Jason interrupted. His face showed more sincerity than usual.

But Shane wouldn't back down; if anything, the idea of Jason actually defending their little brother made him more on the verge of anger. "Stop pampering him, will ya! It doesn't help."

"Well, neither does yelling and telling him what he has to do. Nate has a choice, and he's say-"

"We can't keep catering to it forever, Jason! You know that. He needs to face this."

Nate closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Not again. He listened as his brothers continued their bickering over the now overly-discussed topic a moment and, despite the dread now filling him, uttered in a small voice, "I'll do it."

Both of his brothers stopped talking and glanced his way. It was Jason who spoke. "What did you say?"

"I'll do it." Nate swallowed, fiddling with the string of his hooded sweatshirt. Taking in a deep breath, his eyes not leaving the counter, he added, "I'll go."

"Alright then; it's settled." The dread grew as he felt Shane's hand slap him across the back. "And it will do you a world of good; you'll see."

Nate just nodded his head. He watched Jason finish setting up for dinner and Shane grab a plateful of food before heading back to the living room. As he did, he couldn't help but wonder just what he had agreed to do.

#

"Nice cabin," Jake commented taking a look around the room. It was early Monday afternoon as she stepped into the small space where her sister would be spending the next weeks of summer. The small wooden building housed four beds among a few other pieces of furniture. At the end stood a small bathroom. Two of the beds were already made, while another was covered with various posters and other items.

"Pretty sweet, that's for sure." Mitchie glanced around then looked back at her sister. "Wish you could room with me here."

"Are you kidding? I get the best cabin on the grounds. Right below the kitchen," Jake replied sarcastically. "And I have the best roommate, too."

Mitchie giggled. "Be thankful it isn't Dad with his snoring; then you'd never get any sleep."

"Touché."

"Oh my, well isn't this place nice?" Their mother had joined them, struggling slightly to get another of her daughter's bags up the front steps. Jake quickly intervened and got it inside with little effort. After thanking her eldest, Connie turned to Mitchie. "Okay, sweetie, let's get you settled in."

Mitchie motioned for the bag her sister was carrying to be set on the last bed, then threw what she was holding on top of it. "Settled!"

"Always good to hear," a male's voice with a strong Australian accept came from the steps. He took a step so he was in the doorway, yet didn't go into the cabin. "I'm sorry to bother you; just checking around camp to make sure things are in order."

"Oh, it's alright," Connie assured. "We were just settling in my daughter."

"Good, good." He extended his hand. "Brown Cessario; camp director-slash-founding member and bass guitarist of the Wet Crows."

"Nice to meet you," Connie responded shaking his hand. "Connie Torres."

"Our new cook; excellent. I had hoped to meet you today."

"Yes; that's me." Connie motioned to Jake who was standing next to her. "This is my daughter Jake and my daughter-"

The back cabin door closing behind them interrupted the introduction. Connie stood there a moment then finished, "… who is already gone."

"Ah, no worries. She probably just wanted to get out there, get to it, you know?" Brown waved his hand nonchalantly. "When the music calls, you got to answer."

Jake rolled her eyes. Connie just smiled.

"I can't wait for you to meet her, though. She has got a great voice." She let out an embarrassed laugh. "Look at me, I'm already bragging!"

"Ah you gotta brag, love. Learned that from the Micster. Jagger."

"You knew Mick Jagger?" Jake asked, raising an eyebrow. The gentleman in front of her certainly looked old enough.

Brown blinked. "Wow; your daughter here has good taste. And yes; backed him up for years. Great times, great times! But not as great as the time…"

Jake took the opportunity to sneak away from the cabin. Outside she found a rather large stage set up near where a bus was unloading campers. Most were standing near the stage, so that was where she headed. Mitchie was probably there as well, somewhere. Soon Jake was surrounded by talking and laughing teenagers, some holding or even playing various musical instruments.

"Mitchie?" She called, her eyes scanning the crowd for her sister's copper hair. Her mom had mentioned that there would only be about thirty or so kids attending the camp, yet it seemed like more with everyone in the same area. She ended up standing near a teenage girl who was sitting on the stage, glancing at the orange laptop opened on her legs. "Mitchie Torres!"

Jake's gaze was diverted as a sleek, black limo pulled up near the bus. Almost like a cliché, a formally dressed man came around from the driver's seat and opened the back door for a tall blonde girl. Jake could tell simply by the way she held herself that this girl thought lowly of the others around her. The blond made her way to the stage where Jake was standing.

"Well, if it isn't Karaoke Caitlyn and her laptop," she said in a swift, icy tone.

It took Jake a moment for her to realize this girl wasn't talking to her. She looked up at the girl sitting on the stage's edge. The girl's eyes flashed with anger. "And if it isn't the superstar-wannabe. How's your mom?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "Just fine. As everyone's heard by now, she just won another Grammy… everyone who's anyone in music, that is, which is why I'm wasting my breath telling you."

Jake scoffed as the blonde took out a silver flip phone and began pressing buttons. The girl on the stage looked completely miffed, yet quickly rolled her eyes and diverted her attention. Obviously there was some bad blood between them. Not wanting to be caught any further in the middle, Jake began making her way around the stage again. She had barely taken two steps when her sister's hair came into view, moving backwards, and headed straight for the snotty girl. Before Jake could say anything, the two collided.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't see you!" Mitchie said sincerely, turning around as quickly as possible.

The blonde girl glared. Only after running a hand through her hair did she reply. "Obviously."

Shutting her phone, the girl sauntered away again. Jake was surprised to find her sister watching, a hurt look on her face. Did she actually care that she had hurt that girl's feelings?

"Don't worry about her, Mitchie," she assured her, reaching out a hand to take her arm.

Mitchie snapped to attention, and nodded quickly. From the stage Caitlyn came to life.

"That's Tess Tyler." The Torres sisters looked at her. "The diva of Camp Rock."

Jake let out a chuckle; the nickname certainly fit. Mitchie simply looked at Caitlyn a moment. "Is she really good?"

Caitlyn laughed sourly. "She's good… at trying too hard to be good. Understandable, 'cause her mom's TJ Tyler."

Jake's eyebrows furrowed. The name was familiar yet didn't click from anywhere. Mitchie's mouth fell open. "_The_ TJ Tyler? Wow; she's won like a trillion Grammys!"

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. "Apparently, now it's a-trillion-and-one Grammys. I'm Caitlyn, by the way. Caitlyn Geller; camper today, top-selling producer tomorrow."

"Cool; I'm Mitchie. It's nice to meet you."

"And I'm Jake," Jake intervened, taking time to shake Caitlyn's hand. She motioned to Mitchie. "Her older, non-musically-gifted sister."

"Mitchie and Jake?" Caitlyn looked at them confused, as if never before having heard the names. "Your parents did know you're girls, right?"

Mitchie and Jake shrugged. They got the question all the time. To that Mitchie added, "It beats Michelle and Jaclyn."

Caitlyn smiled. "Well, alright then. Wanna hear some of my tunes?"

Mitchie nodded, prompting Caitlyn to pull out her laptop again and start playing various compositions. Jake lollygagged a moment, then began making her way towards the kitchen. Her mom probably needed some help getting things ready, which was part of her job here. Besides, she figured as a lady took to the stage and began making announcements; making music really wasn't her forte.

#

Nate quickly grabbed the edge of the sock cap on his head and gave it a swift tug. He peaked into the gap between the door and its frame, watching as Shane loaded their bags into the car. Shane had assured him all morning that nothing would happen, but didn't he get it? This was such a bad idea in so many ways. Anything could happen out there; nothing was out of the realm of possibility.

The sudden feel of a hand slapping across his back nearly made him jump from his shoes. Nate whipped around to find it was only Jason, holding another bag. "Hey, Natey, wanna help me carry this stuff to the car?"

Nate shook his head, not sure if he could open his mouth without getting sick.

"Aw, come on." Another shake of the head followed. "Fine; at least hold the door open for me, will ya?"

Nate obliged, making sure to hide behind it as he did. Jason squeezed his way outside and made his way to the car. Nate remained in place.

"Time to go, man, come on!" Shane's voice called from the driveway. Nate could feel his breath becoming shallower as his stomach lurched. Why had he agreed to this? Maybe he was becoming delusional. He shook his head but said nothing, ignoring the fact that behind the door he was not visible to his siblings.

"Don't make me come in there!" Shane was annoyed. Even though it seemed such an easy thing to do anymore, Nate groaned. The last thing he needed was an annoyed Shane in the car on their way out to the middle of nowhere. He had to go out there, to the unknown, where anything and everything could happen.

Nate took his time moving around the doorway then looked outside. It seemed calm, with only the sounds of nature around them. A soft hum of traffic at a distance was also audible. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Leaving the doorway he began making his way down to the car. He was Nate Gray, after all. He could do anything he put his mind to - music, school, even fears. A shadow of a smirk began to form on his face; he could handle this. He reached where both his brothers stood. The usual smile was plastered on Jason's face, while a steeled expression was on Shane's.

"What are you wearing?" Shane asked, pulling off the sunglasses and hat from his brother.

"Hey; I need those!" Nate said, his confidence failing as his brother tossed them into the truck and shut the door.

Shane looked at him. "No you don't. You are starting a new life; one where you don't need that stuff. We'll help you, but you gotta be willing to help yourself first. Got it?"

Nate made a face. "Yes, Dr. Phil."

"Got it?" Shane pressed. After a moment, Nate nodded, albeit half-heartedly. "Don't worry; you'll be staying in a cabin with me-"

"You think that's a good idea?" The panic began to rise again in him as he envisioned a swarm of female campers surrounding their living quarters in pursuit of his brother.

"- And Uncle Brown will be in the cabin near ours," Shane finished, paying no mind to the interruption. "Nowhere near the cabins housing the campers. Trust me; you only have to go out around the camp when you want to or when I make you."

"And how exactly is that fair?" Nate pressed. Shane just shrugged.

"Wish I stay out there with you guys," Jason stated sadly.

Shane shook his head. "We've been over this-"

"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." Jason walked around to the driver's seat. The last thing they needed was for all three members of the group to be there. It would be a red flag to others at the camp. Nate was hesitant enough without the added threat. Jason's mood immediately lifted, however, as he asked, "Hey, could you make me a birdhouse or something?"

Shane scoffed. He then turned his attention back to his little brother. "Time to go; get in the car."

"I don't think it's that kind of camp," Nate responded to Jason's request as he climbed into the back seat. Seeing the look on Jason's face, he added, "I'll see what I can do, though."

"Thanks, bro." Jason turned to look at him as Shane double checked to make sure the house was locked. "How you feel?"

"Nauseous," Nate admitted.

"You'll do fine. But if you need anything…"

Nate nodded; he knew. "Thanks, Jase."

"I mean it. If it gets to be too much, let me know. This is his punishment, not yours."

As if on cue, Shane appeared near the car and climbed into the front passenger seat. Jason turned the key, making the engine roar to life. With that, they drove out of the gate, Jason and Shane talking in the front seat. Nate sat in the back hunched over, biting his lip and tapping his leg along the way.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you really think he's as cute in person as he is in pictures?"

"Probably better!"

"I can't believe he's really here!"

Jake reached as far as she could across the table as she swept over it with the wet washcloth in her hand. She focused her attention and energy on cleaning off what had been left over from the first meal of camp, resisting the urge to either say something at the girls talking or scream. It hadn't even been a full day yet and she'd heard more about Shane Gray than she ever cared to; his hair, his eyes, his smile, and even curious speculations on what sort of deodorant he used. What was it about rock stars that drove girls into a frenzy?

Fortunately the last batch of campers left, allowing her a breather. Jake quickly finished cleaning off the tables then made sure things looked presentable in the dining area. Picking up a spare tray which had fallen under a bench, she headed back into the dishwashing area. Mitchie was there, putting dishes onto the various racks to be put through the dishwasher.

"Mom, the mess hall's clean!" Jake called as she brought over the rouge tray to her sister. "For you."

"Thanks," Mitchie said sarcastically, motioning for it to be placed with the rest of the dirty dishes. Jake did so, taking care so it wouldn't cause the rest to fall. She watched a moment before beginning to tackle the dishes which were now dry and in need of being put back into place. "So the camp's still buzzing about Shane Gray being here, huh? Don't look at me that way. I heard them gossiping all through lunch."

Jake focused back on the dishes, stacking trays.

"Do wonder which class he's teaching…" Mitchie's voice trailed.

Jake walked over to her sister and took the sprayer from her hand. She aimed it towards Mitchie before giving it a squeeze.

"Hey! I'm just saying…"

"I know. But can you imagine if the director-"

"Brown," Mitchie offered.

"Whatever. Anyway, can you imagine if he had told? Every girl on camp would be in that class, or standing next to the window, or in the doorway…"

"He is a teen heartthrob."

"And a grade-A jerk, from what's I've heard."

"That too. Although who knows, maybe that's just a front."

Jake rolled her eyes. "Now you're being optimistic again."

Mitchie let out a muffled laugh and went back to the task at hand. As she did, she began to sing to herself. Her sister's voice brought her back to attention. "Sorry?"

"Another Mitchie Torres original, or something from the radio?"

"Just something I'm working on right now."

"It sounds nice."

"Nice?"

"Okay, very nice; don't push it."

"Thank you." Mitchie returned to washing dishes.

"So are you going to sing that at the opening jam tonight?" When she got no answer Jake looked to her sister. She found Mitchie giving her a look of disdain back, as if the suggestion were the craziest thing she had ever heard. Jake sighed. "Come on, Mitchie. I thought the whole point of this camp was to get out there and show folks what you can do."

"She's right honey," Connie added, appearing from the back of the kitchen. Setting down the small stack of dishes in her hands she added, "We've heard you sing before in your room and such. You're really good. Mom's honor. And if you're nervous, just remember that everyone is nervous. It's the first day."

"I'll sing it eventually, maybe for final jam or something. Besides, it isn't ready yet." Mitchie responded as she wiped her hands on a towel.

Mrs. Torres returned to the kitchen as Jake nodded. "When is the opening jam, anyway?"

"Five o'clock."

Jake glanced at her watch. "Then why aren't you practicing?"

"Because I'm helping you, duh."

"Oh no," Jake lifted off the apron from around Mitchie's neck. "I'm not going to be an excuse for you to avoid performing today. I can handle the rest of this stuff."

"Are you-"

"Just get out of here already, will ya? Before I change my mind." Jake playfully slapped her sister with the apron.

Mitchie just grinned and gave her sister a hug. "You're the best."

She then bolted out the back door, Jake calling behind her, "You owe me!"

#

He had to do it. The label hadn't listened, despite his last-minute pleas for the chance to pull out of doing this thing. Which left him with no other option. As much as he hated it, he had to do it. Taking a jagged, annoyed breath, Shane dialed Jason's number.

"Hey buddy; how's it going?" Jason's cheerful voice rang over the line after he had answered. From the sounds invading in on their conversation Shane could tell he was on speaker. "And how's my birdhouse coming?"

Shane sighed, bringing a hand over his face. Jason didn't know how to let things go sometimes. It was especially true in regards to the little things that really didn't matter. "Jason-"

"I'm kid- Uh oh; what happened?" Even Jason could tell within the matter of a sentence if Shane was annoyed at something.

"I need to get out of here. Now."

"Why?"

Shane sighed in an attempt to block out his rising annoyance. "Just do it, okay? Please? I learned my lesson! I showered in cold water! I looked at a tree. It's been three hours, I need hair product."

"Wait, did you just say please?" Jason asked in what seemed to be a mixture of shock and horror. Shane rubbed his face. "Well in that case… no."

"Jason-"

"Maybe it's time to embrace the 'natural' look," Jason suggested.

Shane scoffed. "You're one to talk. Jason, please!"

"What about Nate?"

He hadn't thought about that. "I think Nate is perfectly capable…"

"No. You're the reason he's out there, and you're not just abandoning him right off the bat."

"Jason-"

The sound of something being crunched over the phone came over his ears, followed by Jason's cries of "Shane? You there, man? You're breaking up…"

"Seriously, are you five?" Now he was beyond annoyed. "You're crinkling potato chips!"

The sound stopped. "Actually, they're corn chips. And that's beside the point. The point is that you're staying where you are. Like the label said. Get a tan, enjoy the fresh air…"

Shane rubbed his face. "Seriously, Jason-"

"Oh look; battery's dying!" Jason called suddenly, his voice giving off the cheerful tone it did when an idea hit him.

"Jason-"

"Have fun!" Jason called, hanging up the phone.

"Jason? Jason!" Shane looked at his now-silent phone dejectedly a moment, then angrily began pressing the buttons. If Jason thought he could play this game, he had another thing coming. The sound of voices and footsteps coming in his direction made him stop. Shane looked up just in time to see a batch of young ladies who seemed to be searching for something. No, he realized, not something; they were looking for someone. And he had a sinking suspicion of just who that someone was.

In that moment one of the girls, a small brunette, pointed a finger in his direction. "There he is!"

_Oh sh_- was all he had time to think before they began their run towards him, almost like one unit, their voices shrieking in excitement. Without thinking he took a step back, tripping over a tree root in the process. Pulling himself up, he then did the only sensible thing he could think of…

And ran.

#

_Rows of towering eyes stared down at him as he walked. He could feel them all; sad, pity-filled, questioning him. Nate shuddered and looked down at his freshly-shined shoes as he trudged along, not wishing to look up again. Instead he focused on the hem of Jason's pants as a guide. It didn't help; he could still feel their gaze. _

_On they continued; a quiet, doleful parade of boys being led by an unfamiliar man dressed much as they were at the moment. They went up the aisle way, all the while being watched by those looming, never-ending pairs of eyes…_

Nate let out a deep, calming breath and opened his eyes again. He stared at the blankets over his head and wondered what to do now. He knew laying there was an overreaction to what had just happened, and yet he couldn't help it. He really couldn't help it.

It had only been a couple hours since Jason had dropped them off at camp. Shane had decided to go out, phone in hand and the usual annoyed scowl on his face. Once he had finished unpacking Nate considered going outside as well and possibly take a look at their surroundings. He had always heard of this place from Shane and Jason, who themselves had spent a few summers here when they were around the age Nate was now.

His plan had come to a halt the moment he had stepped out the door, as he heard shrieking; clearly human, but high-pitched. The noise had been far off, yet that was all it had taken for him to slam the door again. They could have been coming in his direction. They could come at any moment. Just the thought made Nate panic to the core.

Since then he had been here, in bed, blankets over his head as if that was all needed for someone not to find him. He had no real idea of how long he remained there. Despite sweat beginning to form all over his body, he remained under those blankets, afraid to move. It was only when his legs ached that he shifted positions, allowing himself to stretch out a bit.

The thought of all this made him now sigh in realization. He really was crazy. Pulling the blankets back, Nate felt the relief of cooler air hit his face. It had been just teenagers after all; albeit loud, most likely girls, but still people like him. People his age. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Nate sat up again. He would fight this, and he would win.

The door to the cabin opened. Nate looked up to find Shane coming in, clearly deep in thought. He headed straight to the bathroom without even a glance to his younger sibling. Nate shook his head, startled; Shane wasn't the sort of person to behave that way normally. Shane Gray always demanded attention when entering a room. Nate stood up from the bed and stood next to the bathroom door, waiting until the sound of the tap could be heard.

"Hey, what's-" he began.

A strange look was on Shane's face as he finally glanced up. Letting out a shocked gasp, he jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry. Is something on your mind?"

Shane shook his head. "Nothing."

"Please. You can't fool me that quick." It was then that Nate noticed his brother's clothes. "And why are you covered in leaves?"

Shane just shrugged him off as he made his way to one of his bags. Nate had a sinking suspicion there was a whole story behind it, yet didn't press. As Shane pulled out a fresh shirt and began to change, he said, "Well, you know how we're supposed to record a song with whoever wins this year's Final Jam?"

Oh, how he knew it. Shane had waited until they were on their way to inform him of how as part of the PR plot, their record label decided to spring this on them as well. "So?"

"Well, I think I know who it's going to be." Shane's voice trailed off as he drifted back into thought.

"Who?"

Shane snapped back to attention. "Well, I don't exactly know yet. But I heard this girl singing while playing the piano. She has the best voice I've ever heard."

Nate raised an eyebrow again. "That so."

"No, really. I heard this girl singing, and it kinda reminded me of the music that I like. The music I want to make; not that stupid cookie-cutter pop star stuff the record label wants."

Nate frowned. As the one who often wrote what he and his brothers sang, Shane's comment hit a nerve. "What's wrong with-"

"Forget it. I'm just thinking is all." Nate decided to do so, since it really wasn't worth any fighting. Shane had an uncanny ability to find people's buttons and push them, even when it really wasn't the intention. Shane pulled a loose leaf from his hair and looked towards him. "Have you gone outside yet today?"

Nate responded by rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, no…"

"Nate!" Nate braced himself for yet another lecture. "We had a deal, remember? How can you hope to even remotely be cured if you keep yourself locked up in here all the time?"

"Well, I started to go out," Nate said defensively. "But then I heard these shrieks and…"

"Shrieks?" Shane asked confused. He then let out a laugh of realization. "Oh, you heard the fan girls. Whenever they see me, they tend to get a little crazy. You know; charge after me and stuff."

Nate's eyes went wide. "And_ that _is why I don't go out."

"They're not that bad, little bro," Shane assured, seeming to realize the impact what he said held. "Just run a little while then hide and you'll lose them. It's like a game, kinda like when we used to play army." His voice became firm. "But don't yell at them. Remember, they're the reason we're selling music."

Nate swallowed and watched Shane make his way to the air conditioning unit across the room.

"But now, as punishment for breaking our deal, you get to go to opening jam tonight."

"What?" Nate's voice raised a note or two as he uttered out the word. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I can't!"

"You got legs, don't you?" Satisfied with the conditioner, Shane sat on his bed.

Nate sighed again. Maybe Shane was right. If he ever hoped to be able to go onstage live one day, he could at least give one little get together a try. "I suppose."

"That's the spirit." Shane began to get up, yet changed his mind. "Now get changed. Last thing you need is to show up in your pajamas."

Nate flushed as he turned around to change. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**"_Shane,_**

**_Meeting in my cabin at 3:45. Want to discuss the time-table and what you'll be doing this summer. _**

**_Good to have you back at camp, _**

**_Brown."_**

Shane stared at the paper a moment longer. His brain still felt hazy from the nap he had just taken. What on earth was a time-table, anyway?

"Did you see this?" he asked Nate while yawning. His brother was at the other side of the room near his own bed. There was no reply. Shane looked up; Nate was shaking his head while giving him a shrug. He swore the kid gave less vocal answers than anyone he knew. Shane pulled on his shoes, wondering when Brown had slid the note under the door. It hadn't been there when he'd gotten back from his walk. It must have been while he was sleeping.

Scratching his head Shane took a glance at his watch; 4:03. _Shit._ As quick as he could manage, Shane finished pulling on his shoes and headed for the door. "Damn it, Nate!"

From the corner of his eye he could see Nate turn, a mixed look of confusion and hurt across his face. He probably should have apologized, but he really couldn't help it. Nate had most likely seen the note in time and hadn't made any effort to wake him so he wouldn't be late. Only the sound of thunder from a distance had made him stir.

As he reached the door, Shane reminded his brother to get his butt to the cafeteria already. He also suddenly noticed that the lights were out. _Really, Nate?_ It was bad enough that his baby brother barely took a step outside, but now he didn't like lights? He decided to say nothing about it and just leave, giving the door a good forceful close as he did.

Once his feet left the front steps, he began in a quickened sprint across the area which separated him from Brown's cabin. The sky was darkening around him; double shit. _Brown better make this meeting short…_

"Hi."

Oh no. As if from thin air a small girl with large doe eyes was looking at him and standing right in his path. Not again. How did they always seem to find him?

"Hey," he replied roughly, moving to pass her.

She immediately moved to block his path again. Letting his eyes fall slightly, Shane caught sight of the small book she was clutching. "You're Shane Gray, aren't you?"

"Um, yeah…." He stepped sideways again, yet she moved with him. "Look, I really have to…"

"I'm Macy," she continued as if he hadn't said a thing. "I own all your albums."

"That so." Considering there were only two it didn't seem like much of a feat to him.

"Yeah. I listen to _all _your songs _all_ the time. Especially 'Time Away'; I love that song. It's my abso-"

"Great. Look, I'm late for something, so if you'd excus…" He began to push past her again, until he saw her face. It had fallen and her lip began to quiver. A pang of guilt gripped him; he may not have understood it, but the impact he had on her was strong. And he had just torn her down. Shaking his head, he kneeled so he was at her level. "I'm sorry... um, -"

"Macy," she managed between sniffs, her tone on the edge of annoyance. Uh oh.

"Right; sorry. That's a nice…"

"My mom is- is Nicole Anderson. Maybe you're heard of her."

It took him a second for the name to fully register. "Oh yeah; she's pretty cool. Met her at a recording studio once. Very nice lady."

Macy's face brightened. "Could you sign this?"

"Okay." He took the small book from her hand and autographed it quickly. He then handed it back to her and offered a hug along with it. "Enjoy the camp."

"Thank you." She looked about ready to jump, or maybe faint.

He didn't have time to find out which. He was on his way to the cabin again, this time in a dead run. He found Brown inside chatting on the phone. Shane glanced around a moment, waiting for him to finish. While Brown did virtually live here, the cabin also served as his office. Shane glanced at the photos along the wall near Brown's desk just a moment. One in particular caught his eye, and yet he glanced away again as quickly as he could manage.

Walking around the desk he found an electric guitar being held by a stand. He had just picked it up and sat on Brown's bed when the phone conversation finished. Shane struck a few chords on the instrument, creating the rather pitiful pinging noises heard when it wasn't plugged to an amplifier.

"Time goes by fast," he heard Brown say. Shane looked up to find the older man sitting on the edge of his desk, his arms crossed. "Seems like just yesterday you were sitting in one of the practice rooms learning notes."

Shane shrugged. Nate and Jason were the ones with the real musical gifts; Brown knew that as much as he did. Nate could play three instruments while Jason had learned to play the guitar within a summer. Yet Brown was acting like a few measly notes coming from a guitar was something for which to win an award.

"Shane, how have you been? What's up?"

"The sky."

Brown only paused a moment. "I meant with you."

Shane shrugged again. "You know, the same ole; getting dragged to a summer camp, diving into flower beds, avoiding screaming fan girls who want to tear my clothes off, dragging Nate's butt out of…"

"Nate's here? I'll be dammed."

Shit; he hadn't been supposed to mention that to anyone. "Yeah he's here, staying with me."

"Well, don't that beat all. How is he?"

Shane had to cough quickly to keep the jeer from coming. When was the last time Brown had actually given a damn about him or his brothers? "The same," he uttered. 'No thanks to you,' followed in his head.

"Good. And Jason?"

"You said there was some sort of time-thing you wanted to give me." Shane set the guitar back on the rack and stood. The last thing he wanted to do was make this meeting longer than it had to be for him.

"Yes! I did! Timetables; very important." Brown's face fell slightly as he searched the cabin. "I had them some- ah, here we go. I'm sorry about the timings, but they couldn't be helped."

Shane groaned as a bad feeling came to him.

"So," Brown continued in a tone as if presenting a rare treat, "You're on hip-hop dance duty all summer, as planned. Of course if you'd like you could teach other forms too."

Shane snatched the timetable from Brown's hand. There was only one day, _one freaking day_ of the week when he wasn't expected in class by nine am. On two days he was assigned the eight am spot. Eight; in the morning! As if uttering it was enough to make it all go away he said, "No way!"

"Sorry, but everything's already arranged. We've sorted all the buildings and they can't be changed. You're in practice hut number four, by the way…"

"Then I'll switch with someone; anyone!" Did Brown really expect him to get up that early?

"Like I said, nothing can be done. Now, if you excuse me, I need to head down to opening jam and dinner." Brown motioned for Shane to walk outside with him, where the rain had started. Brown grabbed an umbrella from next to the door and opened it. "Want me to walk with you to your cabin? Stay dry?"

Shane shook his head. Brown had begun his decent down the front steps when Shane realized something. He grabbed the older man's arm. "Brown, do me a favor and don't mention Na- you know who being here."

Brown just looked at him perplexed. "Some sort of reason behind that?"

"Just don't do it."

For a moment Brown did nothing. Then just as Shane began to think he wouldn't agree, Brown nodded his head in understanding. Shane folded the timetable and shoved it into his back pocket. Damn it all, this was a nightmare. From a distance he could see various campers running towards the cafeteria building, many laughing as they dodged the rain drops. Stupid rain and stupid camp. At least everyone was on their way to opening jam or already there. It would save him having to do any more impromptu autograph sessions.

Looking around again, Shane focused back on the sky which was still spitting. _Oh, what the hell._ Jumping the two steps, Shane calmly made his way back to his own cabin. He was gonna get wet anyway, so he might as well get himself soaked while he was at it.

#

"Lola, chill. You've never gone wrong before. You'll do fine." Caitlyn called from her bunk where she had been looking over files on her laptop.

"Thanks, Cait," her cabin mate said, letting out a deep breath. Lola had been standing next to her bunk going over her song for opening jam the last several minutes as the girls got ready. One of their roommates, a thin girl named Anna, had already left for the cafeteria area, which meant Caitlyn, Mitchie and Lola were left.

Caitlyn just shrugged. Her eyes then fell on her other cabin mate who was standing by the bathroom mirror. "The same goes to you too, ya know."

"Oh thanks. But I don't think I'll actually sing tonight" Mitchie patted her hair down again nervously.

"Why not?"

Mitchie didn't respond. The truth was that she was still feeling a little unnerved from the incident in one of the music huts earlier. She had been working on her song when she'd noticed someone watching her; actually listening in as she sang. It probably wouldn't have been that bad had they actually announced their presence or asked to listen; but to have them just standing outside the door eavesdropping seemed… so… well rude, for one thing. And almost violating. She let out a sigh, and then looked back at the mirror. "I guess this may be as good as it gets today."

"You look fine." Mitchie had to giggle at Caitlyn's words, as she hadn't even been looking towards her as she spoke. Did the girl ever get off her laptop? "Thank goodness dinner is right after the jam; I'm starving. Any idea what we're having?"

"Um, I'm not sure." What had her mom said before? Mitchie shrugged. "Probably something good."

"Has to be better than the food last year. Oi." Caitlyn closed her laptop and shoved it into a case. "We should probably get going."

It was then that Mitchie saw the time. "No- we're so late!"

"Relax; opening jam never begins on time," Caitlyn assured. "Coming, Lola?"

"One step ahead of you girls." Lola was already at the door. "Better grab your rain jackets. It looks pretty nasty out there."

The other two obliged. Finally ready they stepped outside the cabin. They had only taken a few steps when the rain started; a quick storm of giant drops hitting them.

"Run!" Caitlyn yelled before they took off in a sprint towards the cafeteria. Mitchie fell behind as a hunched-over figure in a familiar blue jacket came their direction. Her companions stopped as well upon noticing her hesitance, both giving her questioning looks.

"Go on ahead; I'll catch up with you guys," Mitchie explained. Caitlyn and Lola let out yelps and they took off again. Mitchie turned to the figure in the blue jacket that had stopped near her. "Hey, Jake. Aren't you going to the jam?"

"Yeah; well, sorta. Gotta finish dinner prep. I'm just running an errand for Mom." Jake held up a small white paper bag so Mitchie could see.

"What's that?" Jake opened her mouth, but then shut it again. Mitchie put her hands on her hips. "Jaclyn Alice…"

"Keep your voice down. It's dinner for you-know-who." Mitchie's eyes went wide. Jake shot her a look before she had the chance to say anything. She hissed, "Not a word to anyone, alright?"

Mitchie just nodded. Who did Jake think she was, a stupid fan girl? Please. Well actually, maybe she was, since at the moment she was fighting the urge to offer her services in delivering the food. "I promise, Jake, not a word."

Jake nodded slowly, as if debating whether to believe her sister. Mitchie frowned. Jake knew she was good for not sharing a secret. Straightening her shoulders Jake said, "Well, I'd better get going before this stuff gets all soaked or something."

"Right. Hurry back."

"Oh, are you going to sing? When?"

"I don't know," Mitchie admitted. Mentally she reminded herself to take time to tell Jake about the practice hut incident.

"Well, I'll hurry then." Jake gave her baby sister a reassuring smile, then headed back down the path. Mitchie ran to join her friends and all the other campers. The music had started inside, and she didn't want to miss anything.

#

Nate slowly cracked open the back door of the cabin, the one facing the wooded area, and looked around. From under the hood of his jacket he could see no one there. He listened; he couldn't hear anyone either. Good. He stepped out and shut the door quietly, then stepped away from the cabin as if it were on fire. Last thing he needed was someone seeing him leaving from it. Everyone else believed Shane's cabin housed a single occupant.

The rain picked up as he walked, prompting him to go faster. He kept his head down and the jacket hood tight, hoping to avoid water splashing his face. With each step he felt the sensation of dread and fear rising in him. He was psyching himself out again. How on earth was he supposed to ever perform on stage, in front of people if the very thought of just walking towards them was causing him panic? Nate trudged along the path. He could just take a peek inside, just a quick look. Heck, just reaching the place without getting sick or something would be good enough for him.

He had reached the last batch of cabins before the larger building came into view. Nate shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he continued on his way. He needed a distraction to keep him going; he decided to focus on not splashing into various puddles which were forming on the ground. He had just avoided a rather precarious one when his body rammed into something, sending Nate tumbling to the ground.

#

Jake let out a started cry as she fell over and landed right on her butt. One minute she had been zipping up her rain jacket higher and turning the corner where the cabins were lined, and the next she was sitting in mud. Jake brought herself back to her knees. She picked up the paper bag she had been holding moments before. Opening it, she found that while perhaps a little smooched, the contents were still safe. It was then that she realized her fall hadn't been caused by tripping over something, but rather running into it – or actually, someone.

_Oh, God!_

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that. I was just going so fast…," she sputtered quickly. Jake turned to face whoever she had run into, and found herself face-to-face with a young man. The first thing she noticed was his hair; a coffee brown mop of now-matted curls. His face looked young even while grimacing, making him appear perhaps a few years younger than her; maybe the same age as Mitchie. His eyes were closed as he rubbed his head.

"Sorry," she apologized again, holding out her hand for his. He stopped grimacing and looked at her slowly with eyes just about as dark as his hair. For an awkward moment he just stared at her. She tried again. "Are you okay?"

Still nothing, although he did take her hand and heaved himself back up to his feet. The staring unnerved her and she began a rapid firing of words. "I'm so sorry. I was just in such a hurry… my sister really needs me to be somewhere, but my mom wanted me to do something for her beforehand…"

He rubbed the back of his head and seemed to almost be making himself look at her face as she talked. The act made her face fall; obviously he wasn't into apologies or excuses. No wait, was that fear she saw in his eyes? There was no way he could actually be afraid of her. Pulling the hood of her jacket back on properly, she stammered, "I'd best get going then. I um… I'll see you later, I guess."

He stood in place a moment longer, giving her a quick nod. Was there something wrong with her? Jake turned to go and took a few steps. There had to be a reason for his behavior, surely. Yet she couldn't think of anything to prompt such a response. Jake turned her head; to her surprise the young man was gone.

_Now __**that**__ was just weird. _Her mind reeled. People didn't just up and disappeared. Her eyes fell on the giant dining hall; of course, that's where he had been music came from the cafeteria bringing Jake's attention back to focus. Right; she needed to get this food delivered so she didn't miss Mitchie performing. Well, if she actually performed.

Jake headed towards the cabin her mom had directed her to go to, the one which housed Shane Gray. Pushing open the screen door, she knocked. It seemed to prompt no answer; perhaps she should just leave the food on the top step for him? But then it would get wet; not that it wasn't already from the delay and spill. Jake bit her lip and tried again, using her whole fist this time. "Hello?"

In a flash the door opened just enough for him to be in view. She recognized him right away, even with his wet-rat look. Had he been outside in this weather without a coat or something?

"Yeah?" he asked. The question came out in almost a miffed tone, one which made her eyes narrow. "Look, I'm all for chatting during activities or whatever, but this is my cabin."

Jake's eyes narrowed as she scoffed his direction. The nerve; he actually thought she was one of his admirers. Several comebacks entered her mind, and she may have offered one had he not started to close the door on her. Quickly Jake held out the bag. At least one of them could be pleasant here. "Dinner, for you."

His hazel eyes burrowed into her for a tense moment. Jake's confidence wavered for only an instant as she continued. "No seriously; my mom's the cook here. She told me to bring this to you."

He softened a bit, but not by much. His eyes still held a glare on her. Jake shuddered in spite of herself. Opening the door he reached out to take the bag; Jake let him have it without a fight. Once he had taken the bag, Shane closed the door, leaving Jake standing between it and the screen door. Wow; not even a thank you.

"You're welcome," she called sarcastically at the door. She didn't care if he had heard her annoyed comment; if anything, she was banking on it. Stupid rock stars. She hoped this was the last time she had to associate with one.


	5. Chapter 5

Nate's eyes were still wide as he slammed closed the cabin door. That had been so… weird, seeing other people all crowded together. It didn't matter that they were people around his age. The sight still made his stomach lurch slightly. He peeled off his rain coat and kicked off his shoes.

"Rain's stopped," he informed Shane dutifully as he set about to find something to change into that was dry. Rummaging through his suitcase below the bed, he found new jeans and considered before deciding on some sweatpants. It wasn't as if he would be going anywhere else today.

"So how'd it go?" Shane sat up on his bed where he had fiddling with a guitar. There was a small smirk forming at the edge of his mouth.

Nate shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and shrugged. He decided against getting into details and instead simply replied. "Not bad."

A moment of surprise flickered across Shane's face, yet quickly disappeared. Shane Gray didn't like anyone knowing what he was thinking, unless it was anger. A hint of arrogance filled his next words. "See? I told you."

Nate nodded. It was then that he noticed the small pad of paper next to Shane. "Working on something?"

"Oh yeah; just a little something." Shane flicked a strand of hair from his face and got off the bed. "So why'd you like it?"

Nate watched his brother put the guitar back into its case before giving him a shrug. What could he say; that he had made it all the way to the building and looked in a window a moment before heading back? That sounded lame even to him. He had to admit though that his little outing hadn't been all that bad.

It was the voices which had triggered his apprehension; those loud, surrounding voices, all coming at once. Coming at him… He had stood there as long as he could manage, finally deciding to head back.

Shane was still waiting for a real answer. Nate shrugged again. "I dunno."

"Oh come on; what happened? You meet someone? Talk to someone?" Shane pressed.

"Yeah," Nate muttered absent-mindedly. He picked up the instrument Shane had set down, the feel of the guitar in his hand evading his thoughts. The guitar was actually Nate's, and his favorite at that. He had been insistent of bringing it with him.

"Oh, I know," Shane called from his bunk. "You met a _girl_."

Nate's grip on the guitar faltered from shock, yet he clutched it again before it fell. "I did not."

He hoped the words had come out convincingly enough. Shane sat up slightly so he could reach into his back pocket. "Oh by the way; found this on the steps. Might want to keep hold of it if you don't want folks knowing you're here."

Nonchalantly he tossed a black leather wallet Nate's way. Nate opened it to find it was his own. He hadn't even realized he had dropped it. "Thanks."

"Oh, and you totally met a girl."

"I did not!," Nate immediately retorted, trying to sound bored. Technically it was the truth as he hadn't uttered a word to her. He had wanted to tell her it was okay, and that their collision was at least partially his fault, yet his mouth wouldn't comply.

She had continued speaking, rambling out her reasons for being there. It was then he had allowed himself to look at her. He had done so carefully, at first glancing at her feet and moving upward towards her head. A pair of light tennis shoes had come first, then a light blue rain jacket. Finally, it had been her face. The rain jacket's hood had been thrown from her head, revealing wet locks of hair with a slight copper tint. Her eyes were hazel and wide-set.

To his regret now, he also understood they had been full of worry. Had he made her feel uncomfortable? At the time he had felt relieved at not having any other questions thrown his way, but now guilt struck him. Damn his nerves. The girl had seemed nice enough, even if she had tumbled into him. She hadn't meant him any harm for sure. And strangely enough, he hadn't been afraid while he stared mindlessly at her, but just nervous. Maybe he had been over-reacting all these years. Maybe he would be given the chance to see her again and set things straight…

Wait. What was he saying?

"Stop trying to deny it. You get defensive when you're lying," Shane was calling his way.

"I do-" Nate began, quickly realizing his error. Shane raised an eyebrow, making Nate scowl. "Oh, shut up."

Shane smirked again, but quickly wiped that away too. "Look, I'm not saying you like her or anything. You don't have to hide it. After all, it is a good reason to get you outside."

Nate remained silent as Shane threw away his trash and returned to his bunk. Carefully he set the guitar back down; maybe later.

"So Jason called," Shane informed him. "Seems he's managed thus far not to burn down the house..."

#

Mitchie joined in with the rest of the campers cheering and clapping as Lola finished her performance. The two girls' eyes met long enough for Mitchie to give her friend a thumbs-up sign and grin. Lola's smile grew.

"Wow, she's amazing," she commented to Caitlyn, who was standing next to her.

"Yeah, she should be. Her mom is on Broadway. Mel Scott."

"Broadway? Wow." Mitchie glanced back towards Lola who was standing up now. Did everyone here have parents in the music business? It was certainly beginning to seem like it. Mitchie bit her lip a moment.

"Yeah, but the kids around here don't care about that. It's all about the bling. That's why Tess over there runs this camp." Caitlyn's face suddenly fell. "Great; something wicked this way comes."

Mitchie turned to find Tess Tyler approaching. Behind her were two other girls. Mitchie looked towards her cabin mate to find her nearly gritting her teeth. "Caitlyn…"

Caitlyn just crossed her arms. "What do you want?' she nearly spat at the blonde.

Tess tossed back her hair. "I would respond, but…"

"Actually, telling her you're not going to respond is technically responding," one of the girls behind her said.

Tess simply rolled her eyes. She looked back towards Caitlyn, looking the smaller girl over a moment as if she were covered in something foul. "So, Caitlyn, your folks still wowing them on the cruise ship?"

"So, um, what did you think of Lola's performance?" Mitchie interjected quickly before anything else could be said.

Tess shrugged. "It was okay."

It seemed that was all she was going to say on the matter. Mitchie squirmed ever so slightly and continued. "I don't think we met properly before; I'm Mitchie Torres."

She extended her hand, yet Tess didn't take it. She did raise an eyebrow. The girl who had spoken before came alive. "Hey, is your dad Richie Torres, the composer? My dad totally staged one of his shows."

"Well no; my dad runs a hardware store." The small group of girls around her suddenly looked bored. She knew the look well. The three began walking away. Without thinking she blurted, "But my mom is… president… of…" The girls stopped; she had their attention. Now what? "… Hot Tunes TV."

"Hot Tunes TV?" Caitlyn asked, doubtful.

"In China," Mitchie quickly added. "Yeah; China. They have a huge market over there."

For what felt like a very long tense moment, no one spoke. The girls behind Tess each gave her smiles.

"That is so cool," one of them said. "Have you met anyone famous?"

"Of course." She hoped it sounded convincing. "All the time. Yeah last summer I was in three music videos. Of course, you couldn't really see me. I was in the back."

"You didn't tell me about your mom," Caitlyn commented.

"Well, you know, I just didn't want…" _Uh_… "Well, I mean, people find out and suddenly you're someone's daughter and not just yourself. It's totally annoying."

Caitlyn still looked doubtful but said nothing.

"Nice shirt, by the way," Tess let a finger graze across the shoulder of Mitchie's top. It was as if she were only just noticing the girl in front of her.

Mitchie smiled. "Thanks." Tess raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, prompting her to add. "I mean, this old thing? Yeah, it's okay."

"You know, if you want, you could join our table. I'm sure you'd have plenty of stories to tell."

"Yeah; of course," she answered. Part of her was excited by the offer, while another began sinking into guilt. That part rose as she glanced at Caitlyn's face. "Caitlyn, I-"

Caitlyn tossed her head back as if it didn't matter. "Oh, go ahead. I'll be fine, thanks. I'll just sit with Lola and Anna. You know; the lowly table."

Before Mitchie had time to respond she had turned her heal and began walking the other direction. What had she just done?

#

Nate awoke to the sound of a splash. He opened his eyes groggily and sat up, gazing around for the source. It was probably Jason attempting a prank or something. Then it dawned on him that he wasn't home, and Jason wasn't anywhere nearby.

From his left came an angry voice, Shane's voice, exclaiming, "Hey! What did you do that for!"

An Australian-accented voice followed, one which Nate recognized immediately. Brown Cessario had been his mom's rather strange yet seemingly faithful friend whom she had known most of her life. Naturally that meant Nate and his brothers had known him most of their lives as well. Right now he was standing next to the older Gray boy's bed, an empty container in his hand. Shane was sitting up wet and, well, looking quite pissed.

"Aw, sorry, but don't say I didn't warn you," Brown said unapologetically.

"Fine, I'm up, okay? I'm up!" Shane sputtered, pushing back his now soaked hair before lying back on his pillow.

"Come on, come on. It's the first day of classes, so get up and get to work!" Brown lectured. "The kids aren't going to teach themselves! This attitude won't fix your impression with the media any faster, either. Get up!"

"Fine!" Shane grumbled, followed by muttering to himself. Nate threw the blanket back over his head and rolled onto his stomach again, his own mood darkening by the rather rude awakening they had gotten.

"I'd air out that mattress if I were you, since it's the only one you'll be getting. And while you're at it, put some water back in the vase. Those flowers look parched." Brown called to Shane. It was then that Nate felt a hand rap the back of his head. "Nate-"

"_Nate…" The voice stopped mid-sentence. A moment passed before Nate felt someone sit on the bed next to him. Still he didn't move from his curled position, but instead buried his face further into the mattress. The blanket which covered him was pulled back slowly, bringing a breeze of cool air over him. Nate looked up to find the face of his mom's friend looking down at him. It was twisted in an expression he had never before seen. He seemed unable to speak upon seeing the boy's face._

_Nate couldn't think of anything himself. He swallowed and wiped his eyes. It was no use; the tears still came._

"_Nate… thank God..." Brown whispered. He lifted Nate from where he had been lying and carefully sat him up on his own lap. "You been here… are you hurt?"_

_Nate shook his head and sniffed again. He wasn't hurt, but…_

"_Hey… hey…" Brown put his arm around Nate cautiously and began doing something he had never done before; he rocked the boy slowly. "It's okay… we'll just sit here a minute, okay? We'll just sit here and wait for them…It's okay…"_

"Oi, Nathan, is that you? Haven't seen you since you were a toddler."

Nate blinked and rubbed his face. Actually, he had been almost seven. "Not a good time, Uncle Brown," he muttered, still under the blanket with his eyes closed.

"Don't bug him, Uncle Brown," came Shane's voice, thick and obscured by something, most likely toothpaste. "He was up late thinking 'bout a girl."

Nate's eyes snapped open; that was totally uncalled for. In one swift movement he threw off the blanket and yelled towards the bathroom. "I was not!"

He saw Shane simply smirk and return to the bathroom. Shoot; he'd been fooled. Nate grabbed the blanket and pulled it over himself again, but it was too late. Brown had seen him.

"So, Nate, grown into quite a young man there, eh? How many girls you got chasing you now?" Nate didn't reply, yet Brown carried on his stream of talking without pause. "Fine, fine, have your lie-in."

A rapid series of taps followed as Brown knocked on the bathroom door. "Out in fifteen, Shane. Not a minute more."

Then he was gone, and only then did Nate allow himself to relax. He had just closed his eyes again in preparation for sleep when he felt the blankets being roughly thrown off him.

"Oh, no you don't!" Shane called. "If I have to be up, so do you."

Nate groaned. "And why's that?"

Shane shrugged, obviously lacking any real reason.

"Oh, come on," Nate moaned. "What time is it, anyway, like eight-o'clock?"

"Exactly," Shane replied, throwing on a dark shirt. "But you could at least look around the cabins or something."

Nate forcefully sat himself up again and rubbed his face. Shane had a point. It was Tuesday, which meant all the campers would be busy with their lessons. Letting out a sigh, he dropped his hands from his face.

"Yeah, I guess." He muttered, his eyes locked on the floor.

Shane walked up to him and smacked him playfully on the back. "I'll see you later then." He said, then grabbed his hat and walked out of the cabin.

Nate groaned and threw himself onto the pillow again. Curse Shane; no Brown for waking them both up in the first place. As long as he was awake, he might as well go do something. Come to think of it, he really didn't have that much of a problem with individuals, like that girl he had met a few days ago. It was crowds he really feared. If he came across someone, he'd talk to them. That was what he was here for, right?

#

Someone had already gone around camp and unlocked all of the practice rooms; perfect. Shane pushed open the door to the first one he reached to find a room with no windows. It would work. He stepped inside and locked the door firmly behind him. For effort he pushed a table in front of it then rested a ride cymbal on top to block out the view of anyone looking in. At last, he could have some peace and quiet again; at the very least there would be no more water being thrown in his face.

Shane looked around a few moments, gauging his surroundings. The room was small, housing only a baby piano and a few other instruments. There was a smell of dusty chalk in the air. He pulled off the sweatshirt from his back and rested it on the floor. Using it as a pillow he then laid out on the floor and sighed. Eventually he would be found out, and probably get some sort of punishment thrown in by Brown. Right now though, he could have cared less.

With another sigh he closed his eyes and in moments was back asleep.

#

"Darling, I know you're singing a solo." Brown wrapped his arm around Mitchie's shoulder. She gulped as he did; there was a 'but' coming to that sentence. "But it's so-low I can't hear you. Now, a little louder, hm?"

Mitchie swallowed hard. So far her first day in singing class wasn't going so well. It was bad enough that she had been selected first to sing even though she had been the only one not to raise her hand when Brown asked for volunteers. Come to think of it, that was probably why she had been selected. But now, standing in front of everyone, she was being reprimanded.

As if sensing her apprehension, Brown gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "Try again," he urged.

Mitchie took in the largest breath she could manage as Brown stepped back. Then she began again. She kept her eyes closed as the words began coming. It had been the first thing to come into her mind, one of the compositions she had been working on the last few weeks. Mitchie raised her eyes and focused not on the other campers in the room, but on the back wall. It helped as her voice grew stronger.

"Not bad, not bad at all." Brown led the class in a small round of applause. A smile draped over her face as she took it in. Mitchie's eyes focused on Caitlyn who was sitting towards the back. Her cabin mate was grinning back. Brown returned to Mitchie's side and put an arm around her. "Was that an original?"

"Yeah…" Mitchie began, suddenly feeling shy again. "Yeah, I wrote it, but it's not very…"

Brown raised a hand. "No buts; it's good."

Mitchie's smile grew as he extended his hand for a high-five. As she made her way back to her seat, Mitchie briefly glanced to where Tess sat. The look on her face was… was that a pout she saw?

"Alright then, who's-" Brown was interrupted as a lady with curly red hair came into the room. Mitchie recognized her as the MC of camp from the first day; Dee, wasn't it? Yeah, that had been it.

"Excuse me; sorry," she was saying between gulps of air. Dee had the appearance of someone having just finished a run. "Brown, may I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course. Excuse me, everyone." Brown followed her out of the room. Once the door was closed, the class suddenly erupted in a plethora of curious murmurs.

"What do you think that's about?" Mitchie asked Caitlyn.

Caitlyn shrugged. "Beats me. I liked that song, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to sing that at-"

"Yes; very good." Tess turned in her seat to look at them. Caitlyn stiffened slightly and glared at the girl who had just interrupted her, yet Tess took no notice. "You're good, kid."

The compliment made Mitchie nearly jump in her chair. "Thanks so much! I mean, it still needs a lot of work…"

Brown appeared again in the doorway. The class became silent as he made his way back to the stage at the front of the room. "Sorry for that; something came up which needs to be taken care of right away. So we're going to just cut class a little short today and begin again next time where we left off, alright? Alright then. Until tomorrow."

"Weird," Caitlyn commented as the campers began making their way outside. "You want to head over the lake or something? I promised Sander and Barron I'd help mix their music for Final Jam."

"They've already started?"

"It comes up quicker than you expect."

"Oh well…" She suddenly realized that lunch would only be a couple of hours. Her mom and sister would need help with prep work. "No; sorry. I have to go."

"Where?"

"I uh… I promised someone I'd… help them for composition class. See ya!" Mitchie then ran as quick as she could towards the cafeteria before any more questions could be uttered her way.

#

It didn't take as long as he would have thought. Shane opened his eyes and glanced towards the door as a steady and violent knocking came from it. He then looked at his watch; he'd been there only an hour or so. The cymbal trembled slightly as whoever was at the door knocked again.

_Go away!_ He yelled mentally as he rested his head back on the ground and moaned. _Stupid…_

"Shane!" came Brown's voice through the door. "Shane, I know you're in there!"

_Damn._ Shane groaned and rolled over to his other side. He'd hoped for a couple more hours, or maybe even a few days of peace. He listened as Brown knocked in vain. No way was he about to actually open the door. Besides, Brown had no real idea if it was him in the room. So long as he kept quiet…

"Shane Adam Gray; I mean now!" Brown roared. Shane heard a click before the door handle suddenly twisted. Oh right; he had somehow forgotten that Brown had the keys to every building here. The door smacked against the table resting against it, causing the cymbal to become dislodged from its place on top. It fell to the floor, making a hollow clang sound as it did. Shane looked up into Brown's eyes. Another groan escaped his throat. It had been a good plan at least.

"Open the door, Shane." Shane shook his head which caused Brown to let out a cry of annoyance and smack the door again. "When I get in there…"

Shane stared at the ceiling. The sound of things being moved around came, and before he knew it Brown had entered the room.

"Up!" Brown shouted.

Shane rolled over so he was on his stomach. He flashed a smug grin Brown's direction. "Why? It's after ten. Class is over. There's nowhere I have to be now. I might as well stay here till lunch."

To his surprise Brown simply flashed a similar grin his way and walked to him. Shane suddenly felt very small lying on the ground while Brown stood next to him. "That so? Wrong, buddy boy. Up."

Shane complied and rose to his feet. Brown placed his arm around his shoulder and led the young man towards the door.

"See, we've been worried about you, and don't want you to get lost again." He explained with mock concern. "So I have made some arrangements on just what you can do to keep yourself busy today."

There was no use in making a run for it; Brown had him in a death grip now. Shane allowed himself to be led through camp, although he did drag his feet along the way just for spite.


	6. Chapter 6

"No way! I'm not going in there." Shane announced once he and Brown reached their destination. He stopped dead in his tracks. The _camp kitchen_? Was Brown serious?

"Oh, but you are," Brown continued pushing him forward. "I've made the arrangements with Connie. You're on kitchen duty for the rest of the day."

"Joy."

"And depending on the report I get, maybe longer." Brown continued. "And you're going to be respectful and do exactly what you're told while you're in there. Understand?"

Shane rolled his eyes. In a high-pitched voice feigning excitement he asked, "And then do I get to eat ice cream and go to the park to play like all the other good little children?"

"Alright, that's it." Brown stopped at the base of the stairway and pulled Shane so his back was against the wall. His eyes burrowed into Shane's as he spoke. "You listen to me. Your behavior here has been exactly why the record label is this-close to dropping you. And I won't tolerate it, not even in the slightest. Throw your best diva-attitude tantrums all you want. They may work with others, but not me. You're staying here no matter how much you kick and scream along the way."

Shane snorted and crossed his arms. If Brown thought he could actually intimidate _him_…. "I thought this was a summer camp, not a psych ward."

"What happened to you, Shane?" Brown suddenly opened up in that caring way that made Shane want to puke. "Why are you acting this way? That kid I've seen on tv lately; that's not really you."

"Funny," Shane retorted."Because we look really similar."

"I mean in _there_." Brown forcefully tapped Shane's chest just above his heart. "What happened to my nephew? What happened to the kid who just loved making music?"

Shane spread his arms wide. "He grew up. Hate to burst your bubble, but this is him. This is Shane Gray, and if that's not good enough for you-"

"This isn't you, Shane. That's what I'm saying."

"And just how would you know?" Shane spat. He pulled himself free of the wall and Brown. "You haven't been around the last eleven years."

"Hey!" Brown spun him around so fast his vision blurred a few moments. Shane attempted to pull away again yet Brown just gripped his arm tighter. "I'll admit I haven't always done all the right things or said the right things when it came to you boys. But I'm here now. I loved your parents, and I love you boys, too. Blood or not, you're family. And I care too dam much to see you destroy yourself now."

_So that was it; he was only_… Shane narrowed his eyes as he finally broke free of the grip. He glared at Brown, mirroring the intensity he was receiving from the older gentleman. The stillness was only broken by the far-off voices of campers and the sound of music being played in various places.

After a minute or so Brown sighed, finally defeated. Inwardly Shane relaxed. Brown opened the door to the kitchen and nudged Shane inside before he walked inside himself. A woman was inside preparing hamburger meat for something. Next to her was a girl Shane faintly recognized.

"Hello, Connie," Brown called. Shane felt ready to gag. "Shane, this is our cook, Ms Connie –"

"Connie will do." Connie smiled as she reached out a gloved hand towards Shane. She quickly pulled it back again upon realizing there was stuff on it. "Sorry. Anyway, it's nice to meet you."

Shane nodded a response.

"And this is Connie's daughter-" Brown faltered in producing the name.

"Jake," she replied glumly. Shane perked an eyebrow out of curiosity when the girl shot him a look of disdain. Interesting, considering he really had no idea who she was.

#

"I remember you," Jake stopped squirting whipped topping on the pudding cups long enough to glance Shane's way. It had been a good half hour since he and Brown first entered the kitchen, yet these were the first words either had spoken to one another. "You're the girl who brought my dinner last night."

"Wow, I'm glad you remember," she replied sullenly. It had taken him this long to notice that? Damn Mitchie and her being the one to get out of kitchen duty for the day. Jake knew it was only fair, considering working was the only reason she was there while Mitchie was an enrolled camper, yet the decision still annoyed her.

Course, she should have known. Mitchie had told her all about Shane Gray's failed appearance at dance class that morning. It should have been obvious that by 'volunteer' her mother had meant 'someone being punished with kitchen duty'.

Shane shrugged. "I only remember because it was soggy."

Jake nearly dropped the whipped topping in her hand. Tightening her grip only resulted in a very crappy-looking dessert. She sighed and attempted to fix it. "Well… it's was only soggy because _someone_ took their time getting to the door."

"Touché," he smiled at her then as if he were winning the conversation. His hazel eyes reflected a look which she annoyingly couldn't decipher. "Although, perhaps next time you could knock a little louder."

Jake put aside the mangled mess of a cup and got to work on the next one. She nearly groaned at him, yet stopped herself. Why was she letting him get to her? He was just a stupid… punk. Or something. The two worked in silence a few moments until her curiosity got the better of her. "Why are you even here if you obviously don't want to be? Get a DUI or something?"

More silence followed. Then, just as she thought the conversation was a failed attempt he said, "So my food won't be soggy this time."

Jake snorted. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"Maybe."

"I meant here at camp," she explained after another silence. "Why bother coming here to teach a class if you're just going to miss it all the time?"

"Heaven forbid I miss out on a summer of _Camp Rock_." He uttered the final two words as if they were taboo.

"You're a jerk."

"Original." She knew what was coming, yet still it made her groan. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"No, but I thought maybe you'd actually understand that word as opposed to something like 'pompous ass'."

"Now that's not nice; we don't even know each other."

It was going to be a long day.

#

"Thanks, Uncle Brown. I really appreciate this," Nate said, letting out a relieved breath.

"No problem, my man." His mom's friend reached over to ruffle the young man's hair. "You said it yourself; you just want to lay low for a little while. Nothing wrong with that."

Nate nodded, thankful for and just a little surprised of Brown's understanding towards his dilemma. He had gone to Brown's cabin with the intention of asking his presence not be revealed. With Brown leading some of the classes and perhaps being as chatty as Nate could remember, the risk was there of it slipping how not one but two of the young men he considered like nephews being present. Deep down he knew he couldn't hide from the world forever, yet he did want it to happen on his own terms. Nate playfully swiped Brown's hand off his head and the latter smiled.

"Well then, we good?"

Nate nodded. That was when his eye caught sight of the array of photographs along one wall of the cabin. Despite having been there for almost an hour, he had just noticed them. Nate got out of his chair to take a closer look. Several were shots of Brown among various performers. Nate recognized the members of the Wet Crows right away. The same went for some of the others, although the rest weren't familiar at all. Then from the corner of his eye he spotted it; the photo of Brown smiling while standing, his arm around a young woman with soft green eyes and dark curls framing her face.

"Our one tour together," Brown recalled fondly as Nate took a step closer to the photograph. Nate smiled faintly. "She was just a part of the opening act, but a lot of people, including myself, thought she could really have made a name for herself if given a chance. Course that was before… well, you know."

Nate nodded; he had heard this story more than once. As usual, this didn't stop Brown from continuing.

"She knew her priorities, that's for sure, and she let nothing get in the way of them."

Nate looked back down away from the wall of pictures. Beneath was a short book shelf. There among the small collection of books he found a few various snapshots, these smaller than those on the wall, yet all still framed. In none did Brown appear, but rather a trio of dark-haired boys. In one they were at the beach, the youngest being held up by one of his older brothers while the third stood behind, all laughing. Another featured them, all no older than eight, sitting on a porch wearing costumes and holding pumpkin shaped pails. In a third they stood in front of a window, arms draped over each other.

The last photo, the one on the middle shelf, was the one he grabbed. In it were the same boys, the youngest no older than six, the oldest around eleven. All were wearing pajamas, and a lighted Christmas tree stood behind them. The same dark-haired woman was in the photo with them, holding the middle boy on her lap. Leaned in among them sat a man, dark eyes laughing behind glasses.

Brown watched Nate quietly a moment before speaking. "She adored you boys. She and your dad both did."

Nate swallowed. A strange mixture of faded memory and disassociation filled him. Pictures like these always did that. This day, the one in this photo… he had no memory of it at all. The tiny boy in the red footie pajamas, thrilled smile draped over his face, may as well have been a stranger. He scanned the photo again, willing his memory to spark something; anything. It did not comply.

Nate tilted the picture back, allowing the sun to blur the image out of sight. His reflection stared back at him; ringlet-filled hair, dark eyes. He tilted the picture forward again, allowing his focus to land back on his mother's smiling face.

"You do take after her," Brown commented. It was an observation Nate had heard most of his life, and it was true. He'd be crazy not to see it, and yet the way the sentiment was often said, and the tone; it left him unsettled.

Before he could say anything another image, this one not from the photograph, flashed through his mind. It happened so fast yet was as vivid as everything which was in front of him now. _The feel of polished wood brushing against his face… a strange metallic smell… a horrible, echoing cry_… He shook his head hard, willing it all away. Unfortunately, in doing so he also lost his hold of the frame. It went crashing to the floor face down, the glass making a crunching sound as it did.

"Whoa, mate." A concerned look was etched on Brown's face. "You alright?"

"S-sorry," Nate stuttered back. As quickly as he could, he bent down and began picking up few chards of former picture glass.

"It's alright." Brown handed over the trash can, where Nate deposited what he had collected. "You sure you're okay, though?"

"Yeah; I'm fine."

"Alright."

Nate set the now-useless picture frame on Brown's desk then stood again. "Really, I'll pay for that."

Brown waved his hand, indicating the offer wasn't necessary to him.

"Okay." Nate made his way to the door.

"Take care then. Catch ya later?" Brown said.

"Of course." He waved goodbye, then headed outside and towards his own cabin. He arrived to find no one there. Odd; Shane should have returned by now. No wait, Brown had told him that Shane was now on kitchen duty due to what Brown had called 'his stupid childish antics'.

The growling of his stomach reminded Nate that it was almost lunch time, and that he had missed breakfast. Great; now they both would suffer due to Shane's stupidity. Nate bit his lip while thinking over his options. He could always sneak to the kitchen and get some food. He wouldn't even have to talk to any of the staff since Shane was there…

#

"Here, oh-holy-one," Jake tied the plastic portion of the black bag she was holding and set it down next to Shane. "You can take out the garbage."

"Yay." Shane feigned joy while he took the bag distastefully between his fingers. "You know, I was just thinking how my day wasn't complete without just this; a lovely bag of kitchen trash."

"Yes, because I'm sure your day has just been so tragic thus far." Jake opened a drawer to find a new bag for the pail. "You had to get up just in time for your class, and then spend the time finding somewhere to sleep, and now you get to spend your day here. Poor, poor you."

To her disdain, he just grinned in that oh-so-annoying way. "Glad you agree."

"You know," Jake fixed the trash bag so it fit correctly. "All the effort you put in that, you could have just gone to class."

"I could have."

"Those kids signed up for a class with you, you know."

"Yep."

"And you let them down."

"Aw, see, why spend the time with them when I now get to spend my day with you?"

Jake's face burned. Mitchie didn't just owe her one…

#

Trash bag in hand, Shane pushed open the door and began making his way down the stairs. Now what? He glanced around to see if anyone was coming. A girl was passing by at that moment, only a few feet away from the door. It was then that an idea hit him.

"Hey. What's your name?" he called to her.

The girl spun around, glancing over both shoulders as if expecting him to be addressing someone else. Her eyes then became wide. She almost came running; perfect. "Um… I'm Chelsea. Oh my God, it's really you! Oh wow; I…"

Shane shuddered inwardly as she rambled on a few moments. Through it all he kept the smile on his face. He took the pen she had offered to him for signing her bag… or maybe her arm. He hadn't really been listening to be sure which. "I don't suppose you could help me with something, Chelsea?"

It didn't seem possible, yet her eyes became even wider. "Anything!"

"Well you see there's this bag of trash here which needs to be taken to the main bins, but I'm not really going that direction…"

Chelsea's face fell drastically as she eyed the bag. "Oh, well, I'm not really going that way, either…"

Shane shrugged, holding out her pen to give it back. "Okay, sorry I asked."

"Wait! I'll do it." She pulled back her hands as if scared he would stab her with it. "Sure I will. I mean, anything for _you_, right?"

"Right," Shane agreed lowly as he took hold of the bag she was thrusting towards him. Quickly he signed it and handed back her pen. Chelsea took the bag of trash as she exploded into a fit of giggles and exclamations of how she was the luckiest girl alive. How someone could say that while holding a giant bag of kitchen trash which reeked he would never know. Shane shrugged and forced a wave as she left. It had been exactly the reaction and thing he had wanted, and yet somehow…

_People are fickle_, he reminded himself. No, not just fickle. People always wanted something and always wanted to take, too. That included even the seemingly nice ones.

#

He was sitting at the small piano in the corner of the room when she entered the dining hall. No way. Jake's eyes furrowed as he just sat there, a smug expression on his face.

"No need to thank me." Jake could hear a soft scale across the piano which morphed into a melody as she put down all the condiments. "But, you're welcome. All done."

She raised an eyebrow. "What you do, throw it into some bushes or something?"

"Nope. I got help from a very nice young lady."

Jake's mouth slowly began to hang open as she approached the nearest window. She only looked for a moment, in shock as a young lady outside lugged away the black bag. _What- honestly?_ Spinning around, Jake marched over to him and hissed, "You're unbelievable."

The melody from the piano became more complex as he said nothing.

"Why did you make her do that?"

"I asked and she agreed. There was no forcing involved," he answered nonchalantly.

"And you're okay with that?"

"Yep."

Jake clinched her fists as he continued playing. It annoyed her how he could give these cocky answers so casually as his fingers graced the keys in a way Jake would never admit to envying. Shouldn't he be even remotely distracted? "You… you…"

"Watch it. You've already used 'jerk' and 'pompous ass'," he warned.

She nearly screamed. "Two words; pay, back."

"Actually, that's one word," Shane replied cheerfully.

"Jake, honey, I need your help please!" her mother's voice interrupted.

_Thank God!,_ she thought before heading towards the kitchen door. A second thought crossed her mind, causing her to return to the piano. Grabbing the back of the stool Shane was sitting on, she yanked it upwards sending him spilling off to the floor, a complete look of surprise on his face. Satisfied, she turned to go again. Finally his stupid playing had stopped.

#

_Um, ow?_ Shane pushed himself off the piano pedals and looked across the room in time to see the door swing closed. He pushed himself up to his feet and grabbed the piano stool. Setting it upright, he then allowed his fingers to touch the ivory keys again. Maybe he could keep playing, show her that he wouldn't let her push him around. The thought faltered; he couldn't remember what he had been playing before being disrupted. For all he knew she wouldn't be within earshot anymore. It wasn't as much fun when he was alone.

Besides, he had already won. She seemed nice and all, but he could never be sure. At first they all seemed nice. Then the truth came. The only way to see what she was really like was to take all the pleasantries out of the equation. Strip away all the fake sentiment and concern. Then he could know for sure.

And what he knew was that this Jake girl intrigued him. She wasn't like the other girls of this camp who clawed at him. She didn't want to worship him or watch his every move admirably; if anything, she seemed to have almost resented him from the beginning. He liked that. This Jake girl had spunk in her.

Not that it really mattered or anything.


	7. Chapter 7

"Well, he certainly seems nice," Connie commented towards her eldest daughter as they began the clean up from lunch. Shane was busy in the back doing something or another. Jake could care less to know the details so long as he was out of ear-shot.

"That's because you've spent less than five minutes with him," Jake replied.

"Don't say th-"

"Mom, I did tell you about the girl with the bag of trash, right?"

"You did. More than once, I might add." Connie began fixing two separate plates from the leftover food. "Mustard?"

"Yes please." Jake watched her mother squirt the yellow condiment on her burger before continuing. "He's just so arrogant and disrespectful and…"

Her mother just shot her a look which meant for her to stop. "You know first impressions aren't everything. You can't tell what someone is like just from one meeting."

"Well you can get a good gauge."

"Yes, but sometimes it's not always the whole truth."

Jake rolled her eyes. "Mom, we're not in a Disney movie. Shane Gray's not some handsome prince under an enchanted spell who's going to miraculously change overnight."

"Did I say he would?" Connie asked. "All I'm telling you is to keep an open mind about him. That's what I've always asked of you girls in regards to people. Musicians included."

Jake stayed quiet.

"And you never know," Connie continued. "When I first met your father, I thought he was just a…"

"Oh, ew!" Jake held up her hand to silence her mother. "Stop; please, don't go there."

Connie merely smiled and reached over to fix a strand of Jake's hair which had fallen out of her ponytail. "Might as well be pleasant, right? We still have a few hours left to work."

"Don't remind me." Jake looked down at the plate of food her mom was offering. "Could you save that for me? I'm not hungry."

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just going to finish the dishes first." She headed towards the back, being sure to grab the bright red plastic apron as she did. Trust her mom to make light of any situation. Jake began putting what remained of the lunch prep dishes onto a rack. A tune came to her head; Jake hummed along for a few moments.

"_Hello muddah, hello faddah, here I am at Camp Grenada…"_

The voice made her stop immediately. That wasn't her singing. Jake turned quickly to find Shane standing behind her, plate in hand. In her shock she spat out, "Where'd you come from?"

He blinked yet didn't hesitate. "New Jersey. Well actually Arizona, but haven't lived there since I was two. You?"

"Indiana. Rochester, to be exact," she answered instinctually. "But we moved to Dallas when I was a year old, so I don't remember it at all."

He nodded as if actually listening then folded his arms. "Dallas, huh?"

"That's what I said." Why did he care that she'd said Dallas?

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. I'll be nineteen in August."

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

She got that reaction a lot. Jake folded her arms as well. "Why'd you want to know?"

"Just curious."

"Well-" She didn't have a response to that. Instead, she sputtered. "Well… just how old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen in August as well."

"Are you mocking me?" Jake asked after a pause, narrowing her eyebrows. It was impossible to tell if he was telling her the truth based on the look he was giving her.

Shane just shrugged. "August 15; look it up if you don't believe me."

_Look it up?_ Jake scoffed upon realizing just what he had meant. "I'd rather not, thanks."

He shrugged again. "So, 'Camp Granada' eh? Wouldn't have pegged that."

"It was on a tape my parents always had in the car. What's wrong with it?" she responded quickly.

"Nothing. I think it perfectly conveys this place," was the response.

She almost had to laugh, yet quickly covered it by coughing. There was silence a moment. Jake adjusted the strap of the apron. "But Broadway's my favorite. You know, 'Guys and Dolls'; stuff like that…'_Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down… sit down, you're rocking the boat'_."

Maybe it was just her imagination, but his face seemed to change upon watching her impromptu song-and-arm-flaring moment. The look he gave her almost seemed pleasant, the chuckle more sincere. Jake felt her cheeks flush a bit. Was she rambling? Why was she rambling? She only rambled when she was nervous. She decided to continue.

"But yeah… stuff like tha-" Jake suddenly stopped herself. "Wait, are we actually having a conversation here?"

"Well…" That cocky grin of his returned, although somehow it seemed less intense. "Now that you mention it, not anymore. Don't want to ruin my image or nothing."

His image? She might have scoffed at him, except for the tone in his voice. Instead she grabbed the plate from his hand. "Right, well, here; I'll take your plate then. You… go do something constructive or… something."

Jake turned around to face the sink again. She heard Shane shuffling out behind her. As she placed the plate and other remaining dishes on the racks, she thought she heard a male's voice singing, but she wasn't really sure. The dishwasher was awfully loud, after all. Voices became audible in the kitchen, followed by what sounded like the door being opened then closed again. _Odd._ Dropping the dishes Jake headed to the kitchen area again. "Mom?"

"In-coming!" Jake had no time to react as something came flying through the air right at her. It smacked her between her eyes, which were thankfully closed, and bounced off again. She opened her eyes slowly to find Shane sitting on the counter looking smug.

"Opps; missed the can," he said with a shrug.

Jake just stood still in shock a moment before speaking. She picked up the small plastic ball of clear wrapping from the floor and held it for him to see. "What did… why… you threw saran wrap at me?"

"No, at the trash can."

"The trash can is nowhere near me!"

"I have horrible aim."

"Why did you do that? You think it was funny?"

He let out a chuckle. "Hilarious."

Jake's mouth began to hang open as she shook her head. "What were you doing in here anyway? Where's Mom?"

"Eating downstairs."

"And what were you doing?"

He shrugged again then swung his legs. Jake's eyes narrowed, yet she decided not to say anything. It wasn't worth the effort anymore. Her stomach growled reminding her of the plate her mom had fixed for her. Maybe she should eat it now, if only to get away from him. That was when she noticed it.

"Wait, where'd my food go?" He blinked, prompting her to repeat. "My food; where is it?"

"What food?" he asked innocently.

"The plate of food that was right here." She motioned to the counter. Despite keeping a stoic face Shane squirmed. "You. What did you do with it?"

Perhaps it was just in her mind, yet a brief flash of guilt flickered in his face before he shrugged. "I threw it away. Thought it was trash."

"You what?" Her voice cracked slightly in disbelief as she finished the sentence.

"Should have actually eaten it instead of letting it sit out here."

Jake's mind began to reel. Of all the low, dirty things to do… Perhaps had it been the only incident of the day she wouldn't have been so angry. Yet not right now; right now she was pissed. "How could you do that? That was my lunch! And you threw it out!"

"Hey now, you were the one who wanted me to 'do something constructive'. So I did."

"You stupid… self righteous… !"

"Jaclyn!"

_Crap._ Jake cringed as she turned slowly, already feeling the blood rush to her face. Her mom was standing at the doorway, hands on her hips and a very unpleasant look on her face. Jake opened her mouth to explain but then closed it again. It was no use; she had a sinking suspicion as to what her mom would tell her to do.

That didn't stop her mother from speaking. "Why are you yelling? There's plenty of food here, and I'm sure he didn't mean…"

Mentally Jake kicked herself for letting him get under her skin once more. Her mom was probably right. Turning to face Shane, she opened her mouth again.

"Sorry," she managed although the look on his face made her regret it. He looked so smug standing there. Under her breath she added, "Two… one word; payback."

His eyes widened slightly with a gleam, almost as if he were excited about the threat. His smile then grew in a way which said 'bring it on'. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, it made her want to scream. And to think, she had actually started to believe he may be nice or something.

#

The food had been a bit cold, yet still tasted good. Nate set the plate down beside him as he positioned himself on the ground. It had been good fortune for him to find the plate sitting on the counter as if waiting for him, and for Shane to have been the only person in the room at the time. Well, not all good fortune, as someone else had started to make their way in there before he could leave again. Shane had taken care of that, though; Nate just hoped he had done so in a somewhat civilized manner.

Sunlight flickered through the trees as Nate looked towards the sky. Logic probably would have had him headed back to his cabin right after grabbing the food, yet he hadn't listened. It was too nice a day to be stuck indoors; even he could see that. He had never hated the outdoors after all. So instead he was here near the canoe shed. The shed itself was locked, yet there were canoes, paddles and life jackets flung around him.

The sound of a branch being snapped caused him to sit up again slightly. Voices and footsteps soon followed, coming down the nearby path. Crap. As quickly as he could manage, Nate grabbed one of the canoes and climbed inside, resting it upside down on the ground so he was underneath it.

"I don't know Tess. I mean, I had been thinking of doing my own thing for final jam," he heard a female voice saying hesitantly. Nate peered in the space between the canoe and the ground, but could only see two pairs of shoes.

"Oh, well… singing solo during your first final jam is kind of risky," another female voice replied. "What with the judging and the crowd and everything, I'd really hate to see nerves pull you down."

"Right. The judging. I mean, you're right I guess." The hesitance was really strong now. In a voice even softer he thought he heard her add, "Crowds kinda make me nervous."

_Well, at least you're not hiding under a canoe_, he thought bitterly, staring at the wood above him. Would it have been so bad for them to see him? Too late to do anything about it now, though; climbing out now would force him to admit why he was hiding in the first place, something he really didn't want to do. Outside the conversation continued.

"Besides, Mitchie, a voice like yours would be just the thing to really sell our song."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Well, yeah, I guess," the first girl said quietly.

"Just think about it, okay?" Nate wasn't sure if he liked the tone this girl was relaying to the other. He heard footsteps beginning to move away again.

"No, wait, Tess!" The footsteps stopped. "You're right. I'd love to sing with you guys."

"Perfect. Meet at my cabin tonight at seven. We'll practice the number for the bonfire."

"Right; okay."

The footsteps walked away again. Nate let out a sigh and put his hands on the canoe, ready to push it off himself again.

"Oh, what are you doing out here?" His muscles tensed at the sound of the girl called Mitchie's voice directed in his area. He peered under the canoe again in time to see a pale hand picking up the plate which moments before had held his lunch. He must've left it there. Nate was about to relax when he suddenly felt the canoe shift; the girl had sat on top of it. He heard what sounded like pages of a book being turned and soon humming.

_Uh oh_. Now what was he supposed to do? Lowering his arms again Nate let them rest on his stomach. There was nothing he could do, unless he wanted her to know he was there.

"Do you know what it's like to feel so in the dark…" She seemed to be reading something. A moment later she repeated the words, this time singing them quietly. Humming followed before she sang again, a few lines of a song he'd never heard before. She must have been working on a song.

Nate licked his lips as he attempted to stay as still as possible under the canoe. It was beginning to get hot and the sand he was lying on wasn't particularly comfortable. He nearly jumped when her voice returned, this time louder than before.

She had a very nice voice. Nate wondered if this was the song she had been planning to sing at final jam. Why was she so nervous about it? It sounded good to him. The girl – Mitchie, right? - began working on the first portion again. In his head Nate began envisioning a guitar opening giving rise to a more powerful sound to the chorus for backup. Such thoughts were instinct for him. Her groaning ended the vision. Letting out a frustrated breath, the girl hummed a bit more.

He continued to wait as she worked on the song more. The heat was making him sweat tremendously. Nate wiped his face quickly. It was a relief when the canoe rose slightly, signifying that the girl had gotten off of it again. She walked away, still humming to herself. Nate waited until the silence continued before lifting the canoe off himself. He sighed as he pulled himself off the ground and wiped off his clothes. He glanced only momentarily in the direction the girl had gone before jogging towards his own cabin. He had an idea.

#

"You chucked it at her head?"

"Yep."

"Her… head."

"That is what I said, Jason; her head."

"Really, Shane? Really?"

Shane groaned. How many times was Jason going to ask this question? "Yes. We have now fully established that it was saran wrap and that it was thrown at her head. Moving on now…"

Nate joined him in the main room of the cabin rubbing his head with a towel as Jason talked a moment.

"Hope you saved me some hot water," Shane muttered towards his little brother as Jason continued talking. The plumbing of this place sucked; one of the things he hated about it. Nate just rolled his eyes.

"Wait, Nate's there?" Jason's voice seemed to perk up at the mention of his other brother. "Put me on speaker. I'd like to speak to him too."

Shane complied then set the phone on his bed.

"Hey, fro bro."

Nate smiled. "Hey right back. How's Elvis?"

"Fine, when I remember to feed him."

"Very funny."

"How's camp going?"

Shane watched Nate grab the guitar from the shelf where it was stored. He seemed to be searching for the right words to say. "It's… big."

"Big?"

"Yeah."

"If it's still around, check out the south pier. It's great. No one goes there since you can't swim on that end of the lake. I loved that spot."

Nate nodded as he sat with the guitar on his lap. "Will do. Thanks."

Shane leaned back against the headrest as he listened to his brothers chat with one another. He closed his eyes and allowed the voices to blur. He'd certainly be getting plenty of sleep tonight; kitchen duty was exhausting. And boring, or at least the second half had been such. Even though Connie had remained nice, Jake had refused to talk to him after the saran wrap incident. Kind of a shame too, considering she had finally started to be somewhat pleasant. If he'd allowed himself to think about it, conversing with her hadn't been all that horrible. It had been a surprise to discover something in common with her, in fact. And she hadn't screamed about it or anything like it was the best thing in the world.

Then again, it was probably better that she hated him anyway. It was safer.

"_I went hiking with Joe Spivey… he developed poison ivy…"_ Damn; that stupid song was in his head again. He'd been fighting it all evening.

"What was that?"

Shane's eyes snapped open as he heard Nate address the question his way. He hadn't realized he was saying anything out loud. "Just a stupid song in my head."

Nate's eyebrows furrowed together as if he were thinking hard. "Do I know that from somewhere?"

_Yes..._ Shane scoffed and shrugged as if he didn't know. "Beats me."

But Jason wouldn't leave it alone. "Oh yeah; it was one of those 'Goofy Greats' or 'Looney Tunes' or whatever they were called. We used to sing it a lot with Mom. She loved all those goofy songs. Remember, Shane?"

Shane fought the urge to scream as he listened to Jason begin into the chorus. He felt relief when Jason stopped, only to be annoyed again as his older brother asked, "Wait, how's that verse go?"

"I don't know," Nate replied. "Shane?"

'_Don't leave me in the woods where I might get eaten by a bear…'_ Shane let out an annoyed sigh. "How the hell should I know? I don't remember. Some kid was singing that in the kitchen so it got in my head, that's all."

Nate looked hurt by the response. "Sorry."

"Sorry," Jason echoed over the line.

Shane rubbed his face. Over the phone, Jason continued singing a bit, making up stuff for the words he didn't know. Shane closed his eyes and again zoned out from whatever his brothers were saying. He might have fallen asleep had he not heard his name again; Jason was speaking to him, something about behaving or crap like it.

"Yeah…" he responded half-heartedly before hanging up the phone. Shane put the phone back into his pocket. That was when he saw Nate looking at him. "What?"

"I…" Nate hesitated, seemingly taken aback. The look in his eyes caused a shot of pain to enter Shane's gut. He had seen that look too many times from his baby brother, and every time hated it more. It was especially so when it was caused by something he had said. "I went to Brown's today."

"Okay; good for you." What did he want, a gold star or something? Then he'd remembered how it had been him who has issued the whole 'go outside every day' rule. "So?"

"He has a lot of pictures of… "

_No, Nate, don't start._

"Did you see them?"

Shane groaned. "Well they are hard to miss, aren't they?"

The words came out harsher than he had intended. Nate almost recoiled. "I guess."

"What's it got to do with anything?"

"Nothing, I guess." Nate looked back down at the guitar in his hands. He began fidgeting with the strings. He always fidgeted when he was nervous.

"Spill it," Shane commanded.

Letting in a deep breath, Nate muttered something incoherent. Shane's eyes narrowed as he became more annoyed. Finally Nate mumbled out, "It's just… I don't know, I guess I just wish I could actually remember stuff from before, you know? Actually know it and not just know what you and Jason tell me. It's all fuzzy."

This again? "You think I remember anything?"

"Well, I mean, I was six…"

"And I was eight! What the hell could I remember that you wouldn't?"

"I… I don't know…"

"And if I did…" Shane stood, trying to think of a way to finish that sentence. Nothing came, leaving him standing there hovering over his brother longer than he would have wanted. Finally he gave up, instead heading out the door. He almost expected Nate to come running after him. He also almost wanted him to do so. He knew it wouldn't happen, yet he almost wanted Nate to follow him down the path, demand answers and call him out on the bluff he had just told. Because it was a bluff. Shane could remember it all.

He just would never admit to it.

#

From the moment he opened his eyes Nate knew it was way too early. Glancing out the small window over his bed revealed a sky still stained purple and black. He could hear the rustling of water from the lake just outside. It was one advantage of being Shane Gray's brother; a lake-view cabin.

Despite the stillness his mind was restless. It had been most of the night. Climbing out of bed, he walked to the shelf where they kept the acoustic guitar. Shane had left it out of its case again. Nate carefully touched the wooden instrument, letting his hand run over it softly to avoid hitting any of the strings. The last thing he needed was Shane being angrily awakened; especially at… what time was it, anyway? Nate glanced at his watch to find the numbers read 3:02. Yikes.

Shane stirred in bed. Nate looked at him and then shifted his gaze back out the window. With it being so early none of the campers would be up yet. Breakfast wouldn't even be for another couple of hours. Picking up the guitar from the shelf Nate strapped it on his back and headed out the door.

The question now was where to go from here. He glanced around. A spot near the lake seemed like a place which would leave him exposed. His eyes focused on the practice huts across the field. One of those would work; they were far enough away from the cabins to where no one would really be able to hear him. Nate made his way over to the first one he reached. He tried the handle; locked.

Walking around the building, Nate found a high window which was opened a crack. An idea hit him once he saw a set of trash cans nearby. Pulling one over, he climbed onto it then pulled on the window. It opened with little hesitance. Nate removed the guitar from his back. He carefully lowered it to the floor below before climbing into the room himself. His foot brushed against the can as he pulled himself up, sending it falling over. He watched it roll down the slight incline. No biggie; he could always unlock the door from the inside and make his way out that way.

Nate jumped off the windowsill, being careful not to land on his guitar. He picked the instrument up again and looked around for somewhere to play, finally settling on the stage portion of the room. He fiddled around with the strings, playing scales and other exercises he'd practiced as a kid. It was true that he could play a fair amount of instruments, yet the acoustic guitar had always been Nate's favorite. This was where music had really started for him, with this very instrument. It had been his father's.

"_Like that now. Good."_ A faint smile tugged the corner of Nate's mouth as the memory, perhaps the only one he still had of his father, came to him. His father had been the one to show him how to hold a guitar. Nate wasn't supposed to have been in the room with his father and brothers yet had tagged along once he realized what was happening. He could still hear Shane whine about it and his father patently explain how it was only fair Nate learn, too.

"_Maybe one day he'll want to play,"_ his father had said. _"Maybe one day you all will."_

If only he had known what the future held. Nate remembered how he had grinned proudly at the chance to try what his big brothers were doing. Course, then Nate had gone and dropped the guitar first thing, since he had been so excited, prompting another few comments from Shane. Jason had just laughed, as had his father.

"_It's okay. He didn't hurt it…" _The flash of his father's words were too quickly gone again. Nate grasped at them, attempting to draw out more. There were none. He licked his lips and sighed.

A keyboard at the other end of the room caught his attention. Even though he had brought the guitar with him, the desire to play was gone upon seeing the portable piano-like instrument. Nate made his way over to it and sat at the small bench. He then sat in silence a few moments, pondering his next move. Without thinking he hit a chord on the keyboard, then another, and then a third.

"_When I thought it'd all be done, when I thought it'd all been said_…" he began. The words came out with only the smallest of melody to them. He paused briefly and stared at the wall ahead before playing the chords again. The keyboard's sounds echoed in the otherwise quiet room. _"All this time goes by, still no reason why… A little bit longer and-"_

He voice broke slightly as he stopped, letting the silence come again. Nate closed his eyes and let out a sigh. His right hand went across the keys as the melody spread. He let it play, building up to words again. _"But you don't know what you got, till its gone… and you don't know what it's like to be so low…"_

The notes echoed. In a near-whisper he sang, not thinking as he did, _"And every time you laugh, you smile, you glow… You don't even know…know… know…"_

He continued playing, letting his fingers guide him as his thoughts slipped away.

"_So I'll wait till kingdom come… all the highs and lows are gone… A little bit longer, and I'll be… fine."_

The piano slowly became quiet as the song finished.

#

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

A hand heavy with sleep clumsily searched out where the small alarm clock was sitting to no avail. Mitchie lifted her head slightly and finally located it, slamming the off button. She rested her head on her pillow only a moment; any longer and she would fall back asleep.

_The joys of working in _the_ kitchen call again,_ she thought as she got up from the bed. Mitchie searched the drawers and found some clothes for the day. She could hear coughing from the across the room. Mitchie looked to the other beds yet found Lola and Caitlyn still asleep. Anna's bed, however, was empty. Her eyes peered down at the floor next to the bed. What she saw made her cringe.

"Anna?" Dropping her last shoe Mitchie headed to the bathroom. The light was on and the door was closed. Mitchie knocked. "Anna? You in there? Are you okay?"

She heard a weak groan come from the room, followed by a toilet flushing.

"Anna, I'm going to go get Dee, okay? I'll be back in a minute."

Mitchie began towards the door, hopping so she could put on her second shoe along the way. She nearly tripped yet managed okay. She didn't bother to tie the strings, but instead began towards the camp grounds. She found Dee walking towards the practice huts, keys in hand. As quickly as she could manage Mitchie ran over to her.

"Ms Dee, Anna's sick," she said out of breath.

Dee stopped and looked at her. "What?"

"She's in the bathroom getting sick," Mitchie repeated.

"Oh, well, come on then. We should go get the nurse." Ignoring her previous mission, Dee led the way back towards Mitchie's cabin.

#

He hadn't realized he was actually tired until he found himself waking up while still seated at the keyboard. Groggily Nate looked around as his mind tried to register the light streaming into the room. What time was it? He checked his watch again to find the numbers 8:53 on it.

_Uh oh._

Shouts and laughter filled the air as voices began coming around the building. Breakfast was over; classes would be starting in only another seven minutes. Nate froze as the voices approached where the door was, only relaxing once they faded again. That had been close; too close. He grabbed his guitar and made his way to the door. He needed to get out of there before someone came into the room and discovered his presence.

Nate reached for the handle, pulling it down and pulling back. He then pulled it back harder. Nothing happened.

_Not good…_

He grabbed hold so hard it hurt and pulled again to no avail.

_No_…

Twisting the handle the other direction he tried but got nothing.

_No, no, no…_

Letting go Nate examined the handle only to find that any lock on it had been taken off. The only way to unlock this door was now on the outside. The panic began to form in his head. He was trapped. More voices traveled his direction, making Nate jump. This time they didn't fade.

_Oh God, please no…_


	8. Chapter 8

He had now established that the door would not open no matter how hard he kicked it. That didn't stop Nate from continuing to try, however, as he pleaded for his effort to work. The voices from before had, only after what felt like a very long time, passed like the others, meaning he was alone again. Maybe this hut wasn't used during the first class period; Shane had mentioned how they weren't all used at the same time.

"Hey, let's use this one!"

Then again, maybe he wouldn't be that lucky. As quickly as he could, Nate ducked down to the floor and leaned against the door. Whoever had spoken seemed not to have seen him through the door window. Nate froze as the door handle was jiggled around above him. It moved slightly, yet the door didn't open. Whoever it was didn't have a key; good. While this brought slight relief to him, knowing they were still out there only caused his nerves to increase. Now he wasn't only trapped but if he wished to remain unseen was now stuck under the doorway.

_Go aw_ay, his mind pleaded as he heard talking above him.

"Weird; Dee usually has the place open by now," he heard someone say. "I'll get the key from her."

"Okay," came another voice. After what felt like a long pause, footsteps bounded down the stairs. "Kevin, wait up! I'll go with you!"

Nate listened a few moments yet heard nothing. He was alone again; okay, he now had a few minutes before they would return. While still crouched on the ground, Nate looked around the room. There wasn't much at all in there. The window; of course! Getting up again Nate ran over to it and jumped to grab onto the bottom ledge. He pulled as hard as he could manage, yet fell short of reaching it with his foot. He let out a grunt and tried again to no avail.

Okay, something else. He tried to think quickly. Maybe he could hide… that would work. There was a closet near the corner. It looked big enough to hold him. Nate ran to the door and jerked it open only to have a mass of small instruments fall around him. _Dammit!_

He was running out of options quicker than he was time. He heart was beginning to pound harder as he looked around for somewhere else to go. There was nothing; no, he refused to believe that. There had to be… Shane. Of course! Nate pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and silently prayed his brother would actually answer. All he managed to do was drop the thing. He cursed himself as it rammed into the ground, the battery coming off as it did. _Shit!_

His fingers struggled to put the phone together correctly. Flipping it on, Nate glanced outside the door window. He saw people approaching the cabin from across the field, being led by a woman with bright red hair. There was no time. Nate hit the speed dial button for Shane as he looked around the merciless room. To his dismay the only answer was his brother's voicemail.

Nate licked his lips and bent down to the floor again as the beep came. Suddenly he couldn't think. "Shane, it's me… Help me; I'm… Hurry, I ..."

It was all he could manage. Nate rammed his shoulder into the doorway. Stupid move; it didn't budge. He tried again, pushing desperately against the wooden barrier as he spoke again.

"I'm in one of the huts. The door's locked. People are coming…" Wham! Now his shoulder was throbbing. "I don't know which one, just come…"

Nate's voice faded as his eyes focused on the glass of the window. He pounded on it, which only shot pain through his hand. He flinched and shook it out again. The campers were still coming, although they seemed to have been diverted away to one of the other nearby buildings. Apparently this Dee person was needed throughout camp.

Another beep came over the phone, signifying that he had run out of time with that option. It also caused his breath to become shallower. There wasn't any time… As hard as he could, Nate rammed his arm towards the glass. This time it broke as he had hoped. Pain registered through his hand as he smacked away remaining glass to reach the handle. His hand slipped a couple times, yet he he managed to grab hold and turned the knob. It still wouldn't budge.

_No… Please…_ Nate struggled with the door, fidgeting with the outer lock. It was no use. Turning again, he caught sight of the stool he had been sitting on earlier. Maybe he could… Nate ran to the keyboard. Grabbing the stool with shaking hands, he positioned the feeble wooden object under the windowsill. He rested a foot on it only to find that it shook like mad. He tried putting more weight on it, yet the stool nearly tipped over while making a horrible creaking noise.

There was no time. He could hear laughter and voices approaching again, followed by a shout. One of them must have seen the broken window of the door. Jumping on the stool, Nate grabbed the bottom ledge of the window again. Pain shot through his hand as he did. Dear Lord, it hurt. The stool shook and creaked again, then broke just as he had lifted his stomach onto the window.

"Miss Dee! Oh my God; Miss Dee!" The footsteps were coming faster. Nate could hear them hitting the wooden steps. Swinging his legs over the ledge, Nate climbed out and dropped back out to the ground. His shallow breath was taken away as he landed straight on his back. He groaned and gasped for air. Even from outside he could hear the shouts and the door being opened.

"Oh my God!"

"What happened here?"

Slowly Nate let out another groan and rolled onto his stomach. Oh, that hurt. He willed himself to stand. It took him a moment, yet he managed to reach his feet then ran as hard and fast as he could manage. They hadn't seen him… he'd gotten out…

#

"He's not coming. Again."

Mitchie leaned against one of the practice hut's mirrored walls and looked to her feet. Her classmates' groaning was on the rise. Could she really blame them? Once was bad enough, particularly on the first day. But now it was Wednesday and more than twenty minutes after class had been supposed to start with still no appearance by their instructor.

_Well, Shane really is living up to his reputation_, she thought glumly. A few of the students had already left, and now a few others were headed for the door. Ella, one of the girls Caitlyn referred to as "Tess's lackeys" was laid out on the floor near the corner sleeping next to another girl.

"So, Mitchie." She looked up to find Caitlyn approaching her. "How was your practice session last night?"

Mitchie flinched. She had hoped that her cabin mate would be happy for her good luck in getting to perform with Tess during both the bonfire and Final Jam, yet the response had been exactly the opposite. If anything, since their conversation Caitlyn seemed to be throwing the same resentment she held towards Tess Mitchie's way. "It was okay."

"Oh?" Caitlyn perked up an eyebrow. "She actually let you sing?"

"Well, no; we just worked on the performance part."

Caitlyn scoffed.

"What's your problem?"

"You drank the Kool Aid, that's my problem."

"Huh?" Mitchie faintly remembered Jake having used that phrase once or twice, although it had always gone over her head.

"It means you're buying into all the flash Tess is dishing out," Caitlyn stated matter-of-factly.

"No. I just thought it would be better singing in a group rather than alone," Mitchie explained slowly.

"Let me guess; Tess gave you that idea?" Mitchie squirmed again. "Well, let me tell you something about Tess Tyler-"

In that moment the door to the hut suddenly came open and a young man with dark hair fell into the room. Not just any young man, but none other than Shane Gray himself. The members of the class tittered between giggles and gasps as they watched him straighten himself up and wipe off his clothes.

A moment later two hands grabbed onto each side of the door frame. Mitchie nearly gasped as Jake's head appeared. There was a smug expression on her face. She looked to the campers now standing in a group together and asked, "This is the hip-hop class, right?"

Tess's arms crossed. "And just who is-"

"Yes, it is," Caitlyn replied, stepping in front of the blonde. Tess glared her direction, yet Caitlyn ignored it.

"Are you missing a sulking pop-rock star by any chance?" As Shane shot a rather nasty look her way Jake smiled back at him sweetly. "Found this one hanging around the lake and thought he must've gotten lost, so I offered to escort him to where he was supposed to be right now."

More giggles followed. Mitchie suppressed her own shocked snicker as Caittlyn again spoke up, "That's funny; we seemed to have misplaced ours somewhere."

"Well then, have fun." Jake stepped out of the doorway and let the door swing shut behind her. Shane managed to smack it back open, seeming to stop her at the steps. For a moment Mitchie wondered if he was going to leave again, but instead she heard what sounded to be a rather nasty exchange before he turned to face the class again. A strangely quiet moment passed as Shane looked over those still in the room.

"Well, I'm here," he said at last as if it were news to them.

"You're almost half an hour late," Caitlyn informed him. "What exactly was so important?"

"Well, when the music calls, love…" Shane replied, mocking Brown's accent. He moved around further into the room. He glanced towards his students as if sizing up their worth. Mitchie squirmed as his hazel eyes reached her, making her turn away as her cheeks flushed. Once he had finished with his once-over, Shane clapped his hands. "Alright; everybody, let's get started…"

His attention became diverted as a buzzing noise filled the room. Shane reached into his back pocket and quickly pulled out a cell phone. His face fell as he looked it over. _He wouldn't. _Mitchie thought even as Shane put the phone to his ear. He must have gotten a voice mail message or something. Surely though he had more common sense than to…

"Okay, everybody," Shane began again as he pulled the phone away from his ear. His voice had suddenly lost authority. "Just, pick a partner and… work together and…"

Then before anyone else could say a word, he bounded out the door again. A collection of groans and mutters flew in the air as the class watched him leave.

"Wow; some dance class, huh?" Caitlyn asked. Mitchie could only nod, although she couldn't help but wonder why she thought she'd seen what almost appeared to be worry in his eyes as he had gone.

#

"Payback; it's a real bitch, huh?"

Jake stepped out of the practice hut, shutting the door forcefully as she did. That felt good. A smile crept across her face as she envisioned again the look Shane had given her just moments before as they stood glaring at one another on the steps. He should have known better than to mess with her at the lake.

Although, she couldn't help but wonder, why had he even been at the lake in the first place? Shaking her head to rid her mind of the question, Jake glanced at her watch. There were still a few minutes left before she needed to be back in the kitchen. Jake's eyes scanned across the open field littered with various other buildings. Across the field, clearly heading towards the closer side of the shore was a boy with unforgettable brown curls running hard.

It took her a moment to realize who she was seeing. Of course; the boy she had bumped into the night of opening jam. Despite still having bruises on her knees from the experience she had almost forgotten about him. Course, that mostly had to do with the fact that she hadn't seen so much as a glimpse of him since that moment. Until now.

The sound of music starting around her caused her to blink. Jake's curiosity got the best of her and she dashed in the direction she had seen the boy go. She didn't even know why she found it so important and yet in that moment she wanted to talk to him, maybe find out exactly why he had not made an appearance around camp.

"Hey!" she called to his back. The boy didn't turn. Jake cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled again. "Hey! Wait up!"

It was a feeble effort. The boy continued gaining distance away from her. Jake urged every bit of energy she could manage and followed. It took her a few moments to round the last of the cabins before reaching the miniature dock area. Jake slowed her pace down as she scanned the landscape. The boy had just turned around this very same cabin and yet she couldn't see him anywhere. The only residence beside the shore was Shane Gray's, Brown's near to the lake and not too far from that, Dee la Duke's. So where had he gone?

Stopping by a tree to catch her breath again Jake took in the view she had of the shore. No one was there. She snuck a peek in the small window in the front door of Shane's cabin but found it dark and empty. Hm. She considered checking the other two cabins, yet changed her mind. Instead she called, "Hello?"

There was no answer. She tried again, louder this time. "Anyone there? Hello?"

Still nothing. Jake frowned thoughtfully. It all seemed so strange, yet a part of her wondered if perhaps the boy didn't want to be seen. She couldn't think of any reason why that would be the case, and yet… She let her thoughts fade as she looked around some more.

It was then she realized that something was on her hands. Jake glanced to find red. Her mind reeled as her eyes darted up to the door by which she had just been standing. More red was there. Jake bounded up the steps and grabbed the handle. She attempted to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. She pounded on the door. "Anyone in there? Hello?"

Silence followed. Jake bit her lip before running down the shore. "Brown!"

#

_Close… too close, too close…_

Nate leaned his back against the bathroom door, bagging his head forcefully on it. The tears beginning to sting his eyes didn't come from pain. The panic was gripping him again. He curled himself up defensively and buried his face onto his knees. In the darkness of his mind the image returned; faces all looking down at him. Judging him. Staring… closing in…

"_Poor baby…"_

"_I can't imagine…"_

He couldn't breathe…

_Count!_ Jason's voice entered his head, stopping the others and issuing the order Nate heard so often at home. _Count, Nate; now!_

Closing his eyes, Nate drew all his attention to the shallow breaths his body was making like his oldest brother had taught him to do. He made himself count every time the air was exhaled from his lungs, willing himself to take his time as he did. _One… two… three…._

He felt the pounding in his chest subside as he continued. The panic slowly went with it. He was okay… he was safe… no one was out there to get him… He was alone… And he was pathetic. Damn him. Damn his nerves. Just damn.

"_Poor baby…"_ The voices returned. _"Poor baby, poor baby, poor…"_

Nate opened his eyes and glanced around. The voices stopped. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to make out the various shapes of the room. Funny; he had never noticed that crack on the underneath of the sink before. He allowed his legs to stretch out slowly.

His hand still hurt. Nate had run water over it to clean off the blood in the cabin sink then wrapped it in a towel before sinking to the floor. His legs also ached; he was tired. It wasn't a surprise, as he hadn't stopped running from the moment he had made it out of the practice hut. Nate let out a shaky sigh again. Why had he thought he could do this? Why had he even tried? The whole idea was so fool-hearty he never should have agreed to it. He couldn't handle this.

That was it; he'd call Jason and have him come pick him up. Take him home. Nate pulled out his phone to find it turned off. Dammit. He considered walking out to where the charger was located, yet changed his mind. Too much work. Maybe he would wait here for Shane. That would work.

"Hello?" A female voice drew him away from his thoughts. Who… Nate turned slightly and peeked through the crack of the door. The voice came again from what seemed to be outside the cabin. "Hello? Anyone there?"

Nate sat up so his hand could reach the doorknob. He waited; no other sound. Whoever was out there wasn't trying to get in the cabin. Nate opened the bathroom door as quietly as he could manage and began his way across the floor still on his knees. He crawled only until he realized what he was doing, and then got to his feet.

He reached his bed. Standing on it Nate peeked through the window just enough to see out of it. A copper-tinted ponytail was facing him; someone was standing near the shore. He ducked further down as she turned. Wait, he knew that face. It took him a moment to realize the where and when. It was her, the girl he had run into that first night. But what was she doing out this far? Campers weren't allowed on this side of the shore, save for emergencies.

"Hello?" she called again. She was looking for someone. Nate's gut churned when he realized who. No, not him; why would she be looking for him? Then he remembered the voice he had heard while running the last few feet to the cabin. It had been a girl's voice. Maybe…

_Stop it, Nate. She's not looking for you. _Pounding on the door caused him to freeze again. Now they –she - was trying to get into the cabin. _God, no… go away… _Nate threw himself behind the bed where she wouldn't be able to see. The pounding subsided and footsteps ran down the steps. She was gone.

Silence filled the cabin again. Nate remained on the floor another moment. He was tired, and his hand was throbbing as well. He also was feeling a little dizzy. Finally he managed to climb back onto his bunk, facing downward on his stomach. Shane would be back soon. Till then he could sleep here…

#

"Brown! Brown, please!" Jake pleaded as she pounded the door of the camp director's cabin with both fists. She was shrieking, but that was the last thing on her mind. "Brown!"

"What on God's green-" The door suddenly opened and there he was, a confused expression on his face. A phone was in his hand as if he were in the middle of a conversation. The look on his face turned into one of concern when he saw the look in her eyes. "What's wrong? Someone hurt?"

"I saw-" Jake swallowed hard to catch some air. There was no time for that. Jake gasped out the words the best she could, trying to explain. "I saw blood – on the door – and -."

"Blood? You sure?" His eyes went wide. He talked into the phone a moment before disconnecting the call. He then looked back at Jake. "Where?"

She gasped again, finally gaining her breath. "Shane Gray's cabin."

"Shane's?"

"I think it's Nate." Another confused look crossed Brown's face, yet she didn't have time to explain. "I couldn't see anyone, but I know he's in there. Please, we need to go now! He's-"

He didn't wait for her to finish. Brown headed down the path so fast Jake's mind barely had time to register he was leaving. She followed close behind as he approached the cabin. In a flash he had pulled out a set of keys and was looking for the right one. He stuck one into the door, releasing the lock.

"Stay here," he instructed Jake.

"But-" she began.

"Stay. Here." His tone was forceful, yet also held a tint of fear as he issued the order. Jake gulped back tears; Brown seemed every bit as scared as she was right now. She watched as he made his way into the cabin. In the poor lighting she could see a figure lying on one of the beds, his hand wrapped in what looked to be a towel.

"Nate!" a ragged voice yelled as Jake was nearly pushed to the ground by someone. As he passed she could see it was Shane. He ran inside and stood next to Brown. "Oh God; Nate…"

Jake cautiously walked up the stairs. She heard Brown speaking softly. The boy on the bed stirred and spoke, although Jake couldn't make out what he was saying. He was conscious at least. She watched Brown help him up and look at Shane.

"Go get my car. It's parked by my cabin." He handed Shane the keys, then looked back at Nate. "It's alright. We're going to just take you to the hospital. You'll be fine."

Nate moaned a response and then muttered. Shane bounded down the steps, barely missing Jake as he ran off down the shore again. Jake swallowed before calling towards Brown. "What can I do?"

"Help me steady him while I make a call," Brown advised. Jake went into the cabin and took Brown's place on the bed. Brown grabbed his phone and began talking quickly. Jake only made out portions of the conversation, enough to tell he was explaining to someone how he needed to go to the hospital with a camper.

Nate rested his head on her shoulder. Jake looked towards him, yet turned away again. She had never seen blood so close before; it was on his shirt and even the sheet. She couldn't muster the courage to look at his hand. Jake contemplated a moment, and then put her arm around him gently. She could feel his heart beating as he leaned against her. His breath went across her neck, shallow yet steady. What should she do?

"It'll be fine," she tried to assure him. While it was addressed towards him, the sentiment was for her as well. Nate just nodded. Maybe she should try to explain more. Of course, it came out more as a ramble. "Shane's going to get the car. Then you'll go to the hospital and they'll, um, get you all stitched up and… Sorry?"

His chocolate eyes looked to her as he repeated himself louder. "You…"

Jake managed a nervous smile. She had no real idea what he meant. "Yeah, me."

"I… ran into you…"

She nearly cried; that was what he meant? He was thinking of the first night and that of all things? The sound of a car pulling parking nearby could be heard. Jake nodded slowly. "Yeah, you did."

"Sorry…about that…"

"No," She swallowed. "It's okay."

"Come on, Nate. We gotta get you to the car now." Brown helped Nate stand. He looked at Jake. "He'll be okay, love. "

Jake fought back tears. She remained on the bed as the pair made their way outside. Then it hit her just what she was doing. She ran outside to find Shane helping Nate into the front passenger seat of an SUV. Brown was climbing into the driver's side. "Wait! Wait, I'm coming too!"

Shane looked about ready to protest, yet before he could say anything Brown nodded. "Get in."

Jake climbed into the back seat next to Shane. As she pulled on her seatbelt, her eyes glanced at the young man in the passenger seat, his head against the headrest. He still seemed coherent. Brown turned on the car and began driving out of camp. Jake's eyes never left Nate.

_Please, God_, she prayed silently as they made their way onto the road. _Please let him be okay._


	9. Chapter 9

"We're here. Come on now…"

Nate's eyes traveled upward as Brown parked the car. He could hear Shane behind him scurrying around in the back seat. Nate turned his head to find his brother pulling on a hat. He opened his mouth to ask why, yet closed it again. He knew why. Why was the whole reason they were here in the first place.

_I'm sorry_, he thought to himself as if Shane could hear. He could only imagine what words they would be exchanging once they got back to camp; if they got back to camp. Nate had a feeling that might not be an option now. Shane finished what he was doing and climbed out of the car. Blindly Nate began reaching for the door handle, his eyes not leaving the sight before him. Through the glass he could see the word 'emergency care' in white block lettering on a sign which was bright red.

_The balloons were bright red, the sort of happy red a kid loved. Red always had been his brother's favorite color. There were some in the cluster of other colors too, but the red ones were so noticeable. They stood out among the blue of the sky, fighting against their strings to be released as the wind picked up again._

_Nate could see them through the upstairs window. Brown had watched Nate change from his pajamas into something else. In the haste Nate had forgotten how to tie his shoes; he had only just learned recently, and had been so proud to show it off. But now he couldn't remember, meaning his laces were still untied as the older gentleman picked him up. _

_Brown held on tight, burying Nate's face into his shirt even as the boy squirmed. Nate didn't understand why there had been such a fuss. He was a big boy. He could walk down stairs by himself. Yet Brown would have none of that. He just held on as they made their way outside, not even letting go once they were out there. Nate moved his face to the right, adjusting the fabric of Brown's shirt. He could see them then, the crowd forming… the pointing and talking… all their eyes staring endlessly his direction… _

Nate jerked as the door opened to reveal Brown standing there. The Aussie extended his hand, yet Nate climbed out without assistance. He didn't need it. He'd walk in there by himself this time. It didn't stop Brown from putting his arm around the young man as they did. Nate kept his head down, afraid of just what he would see if he dared lift his eyes.

#

"Snickers bar?"

Jake waited a moment as Shane lifted his head. He shook it yet said nothing. She sighed; any attempt to talk to him seemed hopeless. "Okay, that's a no."

Sitting next to him on the hallway bench, she placed the candy bar onto her lap, and fidgeted slightly. She hated the silence; it left her with nothing to do but think. And right now, she didn't want to be left with her thoughts. She wasn't sure how long it had been since they'd gotten here. It felt like a long time though, especially considering her company.

Pulling her bag across her lap, Jake opened it. She knew there was a knitting project in there somewhere. Pulling the tangled mass from the bag, she began organizing it. Figuring out where she had left off in the pattern took a moment, yet soon she was back on track again.

"Knitting," she informed Shane as she noticed his eyes on her. She let her fingers continue to work. "I always keep a project on hand for times like this. Not that something like this happens often, just, you know, it keeps my hands busy and all. If it bothers you-"

Shane shook his head and again rested it against the wall, adjusting the hat on his head as he did. Jake allowed her eyes to return to the project in her hands. More silence followed as she worked, carefully pulling the loops of yarn over the needles to make more stitches. "Look, I'm sorry about before. If I'd known you were looking for him instead of just trying to get out of class I would have-"

"Do you ever stop talking?" he suddenly snapped.

"Not when I'm nervous, no." Jake stammered, jumping at the sudden interruption. Mentally she sighed both at him and herself. She didn't want to be here any more than he seemed to be. Of all the people to be sitting in the hallway of a hospital with, it had to be the one person she had wished not to see anymore. It was just her luck.

"Well could you go be nervous elsewhere?" Shane nearly spit.

She would have taken the effort to make some sort of comeback had an idea not hit in that moment. Shoving the knitting back into her bag, Jake stood and headed down the hallway. Turning the corner she found another bench and sat. She opened the web browser on her phone and waited for it to load before typing the words 'Connect Three' into the search engine.

Jake frowned as she read the words 'Results 1-10 of about 1,210,000' on the screen. This was going to be a bit trickier than she thought. She tried again, this time by typing 'Gray brothers'. That search provided fewer links, yet not exactly what she wanted. What she wanted; the words seemed so ironic to her, considering she really didn't know what it was for which she was searching. She would know when she found it actually.

She tried mixing the two and found a Wikipedia entry on the band. It wouldn't be perfect, but at least it would get her somewhere. She scrolled a moment, unsure still of what she was searching. The only thing which struck her was that their first album had been self-released, both written and produced by the brothers. She had no idea how usual such a thing was, if it even was unusual.

There was a table of contents. Jake clicked on the 'personal lives' section. There wasn't much there; nothing really useful, in fact. She scrolled back up and clicked on Shane's name. A new page came after a few moments.

_Well, I'll be dammed_, she thought as his birth date appeared listed as August 15. She shrugged it aside as she again scrolled for the personal life portion. It was composed of only two sentences stating that he was the middle of three sons, his parents' first names, and that he was born in Arizona. A similar result came when she clicked on the link for Jason, the differences being that he was the oldest and that he had been born in New Jersey. There was no link for Nate.

Maybe she should extend the search. Jake returned to the search engine and typed in the name 'Nate Gray'. There were even fewer results this time with the first several being for a character from the "X-Men" comics. Jake nearly laughed at the thought that a fictional character drew top billing over a real person by the same name. It shouldn't have surprised her of course, considering the boy made no public appearances. In fact, the first few links concerning him were forum threads debating his very existence.

_He does exist_, she thought to herself. Jake glanced up towards the hallway from which she had come. She allowed her thoughts to drift to the young man with whom she had only exchanged less than a dozen words. She thought of the look on his face when they had run into each other that first night and how he had almost seemed hesitant to even glance at her face. She also thought of only a couple hours before and the look he had given her then. Those eyes; there had been something in them. Something dark and pained, and yet… and yet what? She had no idea. The sight had nearly broken her heart and, in some strange way, served almost as a lure to her.

Had she dared say the words out loud, Jake herself would have believed it to be crazy. And yet, she realized, it was the very thing she was searching for; the reason behind that look. She piddled around a bit longer, clicking on various fan sites for the band. It seemed there would be slim pickings all around; well, unless she cared to know rather useless information gathered like shoe size or favorite board game. Seriously though, who searched out the sort of thing? She wondered if that sort of stuff was even correct.

"Finding anything interesting?" Jake jumped as Shane's voice filled the air. She turned to find him standing mere inches from her.

"You scared me," she informed him, exiting out of the browser.

"Finding anything interesting." he said again. This time it came out more as a statement, with a pause between each word.

"I was just – well, I don't know what I was doing, really," she admitted. "And it's none of your business, anyway."

"Looks like it had plenty to do with my business."

Her face burned, yet she stood so they were at least closer to eye level. He had a good couple of inches over her. "And just what does that mean exactly?"

"I think you know exactly what it means." He was looking at her with a steeled expression.

While she shuddered on the inside, Jake merely narrowed her own eyes. Oh yes; that infamous Shane Gray touch-me-not attitude. Well, two could play this game. "And just what are you doing? I thought you wanted me to 'go be nervous somewhere else'. So here I am, somewhere else."

His expression didn't change as he folded his arms across his chest. Jake raised an eyebrow and crossed her own arms in a demonstration that she wanted an answer, no matter how long it took. Leaning in towards her, he finally gave her one. "You think you're so clever. But I see right through you."

Jake rocked herself up on her toes. "Ditto."

They may have stood there, still as statues as they continued to stare one another down, had Brown not chosen that moment to turn the corner. "There you are!"

It took her a moment to register his presence. Blinking as she returned back onto her feet Jake asked, "How's he doing?"

"As well as someone with eight stitches in their hand can, I suppose." Brown ran a hand through his hair. "Really though, he's fine. He'll be good and sore for a while, but it wasn't as bad as we might have thought. Which isn't what I can say about the practice hut he was in; according to Dee, he did a number on it."

Shane sighed as Jake blinked again in confusion. "Practice hut? What practice hut?"

"Well, it seems Nathan was stuck in one this morning. My fault actually; after Shane's little stunt yesterday I asked for the inside locks to be taken off all the huts," Brown informed her. "It was by luck of the draw he was in one of the ones that had been fixed already. He did a number on it too. Apparently the camp is all up in arms over the fact that Dee and a few others found the hut trashed and smashed, something they swear wasn't that way when they left it a few minutes before."

Jake listened carefully, her face slowly falling into a thoughtful frown. The story Brown was telling her was an enigma. "I don't understand. Couldn't he have just waited for someone to get him out?"

"That's a very good question," Brown replied, although the words didn't seem to be directed towards her. Jake couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed off about the way he said them. In front of her Shane shifted slightly. He was turned away, so she had no idea the look he was giving Brown at the moment.

Jake licked her lips before speaking again."Brown, may I ask you something?"

"Have a feeling I know what you're going to ask, but go ahead," was his response. "But before you do, there's a question I would like to ask you. And I'm sure Shane would like to know as well."

Now it was Jake who squirmed. "Okay."

Brown ushered her back to the hallway where they had started, Shane following close behind. Making sure no one else was there, he asked, "You knew it was Nate in the cabin, am I correct?"

Jake cleared her throat as both Shane and Brown looked, or in Shane's case glared, her direction. She looked down at her shoes as she nodded.

"How did you know that?"

"I… kinda found his wallet. He dropped it the night we met, well, bumped into each other. Literally. Outside the cabins. Monday night, during opening jam. I guess neither of us was paying attention, and we just rammed into each other." Jake forced her mouth closed before she kept rambling. It seemed like today she was incapable of a simple sentence of response.

"I see." Brown ran his hand through his hair again. "Makes sense I su-"

"Wait that was you?" Shane interrupted.

Jake began to nod before her eyebrows furrowed together. "What do you mean, that was me?"

"Should have known he meant it literal- You took his wallet?"

"Shane-" Brown began.

"I didn't take his wallet, I found his wallet. It was on the ground when I was going back to the cafeteria after giving you your food." Jake lifted her chin as Shane's eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that look. I wasn't trying to do anything wrong. I only looked so I could see who it belonged to. He didn't exactly tell me his name. I went back to your cabin to return it, and would have explained, but after the response I got the first time decided against it. So I just put it on the top step."

Despite her explanation Shane began to look even angrier. She couldn't believe it. "Look, I wasn't going to tell anyone, and I still won't. If I was, don't you think I would have done so already? I figured there has to be a damn good reason the third member of-"

"No one's suggesting anything like that, love," Brown suddenly intervened. He motioned his hand downward as if urging them to keep their voices down as well. Jake looked at him, then back at the sulking young man near her. Brown pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them at Shane. "But enough of that; this is a conversation to be finished elsewhere. Shane, I need you to take Jake back to camp. I'm sure her mom is worried for her by now."

"Actually, I already called her…" Jake started. He couldn't be serious, especially considering the conversation he had just witnessed.

Brown just looked at her. "Jake, I appreciate the concern, really I do. And I'm sure the boys appreciate it as well. But I insist that you head back now."

"But I can wait. Mom can handle the dinner prep work without me. She has-" From the corner of her eye Jake could see Shane giving her a quizzical look. She swallowed, yet kept her focus on Brown. "No really. Please? I'll just sit here."

"Yeah, Brown," Shane suddenly piped in. "She's got her crochet stuff to keep her busy."

"It's knitting."

"Hey; you want my help or not?"

Jake scoffed. Was he serious? "Not."

Brown held up his hand before Shane could retort. He shook his head, causing Jake to sigh. He wasn't going to back down on this one. "There's no reason for you to stay. J's on his way now to pick up Nate. He's going home."

Jake's heart sank. "What?"

"He's going home. Tonight." Brown repeated. Jake waited yet there was no more explanation. Jake bit her lip. "Now, go on and say your goodbyes and get out of here."

Jake shifted her bag as Shane poked his head into the doorway to exchange words with Nate. She didn't know why, but the news of Nate's departure was upsetting, even though she knew he was okay. Shane came out of the room again, leaving Jake to contemplate her next move. She began to sneak her own peek around the doorframe. Nate was sitting on a bed, although she could see little else.

"Come on, then!"

Jake jumped, managing to ram her arm into the doorframe as she did. "Bye, Nate!" she said quickly. She then made a dash to catch up with Shane who was a few feet ahead. Her shoulders slumped as she walked. Only when they had reached the car did she realize it; she'd never been able to ask Brown her question.

#

She thought she was so clever. She thought she could fool him. Well, Shane Gray wasn't fooled that easily. He was keeping his eye on her. No matter where Jake went, Shane had made sure to keep her within eyeshot. It was protection really; someone had to make sure she didn't do anything to tip off the press. He couldn't take the chance. Just sitting in a hospital was risky enough.

Least she wasn't talking anymore.

"Is kinda nice around here, huh?"

He'd thought too soon on that one. Maybe if he kept quiet she'd stop.

"Kinda pretty too."

Dammit. Shane kept his eyes on the road. Only a few more miles until they reached camp again. Then he'd figure out exactly what to do with her knowing what she did. At least Nate would no longer be there after tonight. What a mess. Maybe Jason had been right; Nate shouldn't have gone there in the first place.

Jake fell silent again. Shane snuck a glance her way as he took a turn. She looked bored, or maybe sad. It was hard to tell. No it was definitely boredom; she was fidgeting with the strap of her bag. A flash of something entered his gut, yet he pushed it away just as quickly.

She looked out the window and sighed in the kind of way which made him know she was going to ask something. "So…"

_Shit._

"Why didn't Nate just wait for someone to let him out?"

More curse words entered Shane's mind before he answered. "Ask him."

"I'm asking you."

"Well, I don't know." That was lame.

"Why is he even here? He's not teaching a class or something."

_Good detective work, Sherlock._ Even as the insult passed his mind Shane knew there was no way out of an answer. Giving answers wasn't a strength of his, but rather just getting mad and moving away from whoever was doing the asking. But he couldn't exactly do that now. Instead he stayed quiet again.

"He doesn't like people much, does he."

"Crowds make him nervous." Had he really just said that to her? Crap.

"Crowds make him nervous." Jake repeated.

"That's what I said." Shit; he should have denied it or something.

"What do your parents think about it?"

_Not much, since they're dead._ He said nothing though.

She tried again. "So then why go into the music business?"

"Oh, I don't know. Because we felt ill-equipped to handle the world of camp food service, I suppose." That would get her. "Why are you asking anyway? Gonna get on your little phone browser and type it out to the tabloids?"

"No, I just was curious."

He knew it was the truth. So far she had only used her cell phone once, to call her mom back at the hospital. Shane had rested his head against the wall to give her the impression he wasn't listening. It seemed to work; when her back was turned, he'd leaned forward again. She'd said nothing. She hadn't used the phone since, not even to send a text message. Well, except the moment when she had slipped away and started searching online.

"Then why'd you insist on coming in the first place?" Maybe if he could turn the table she'd get flustered. Stop asking the questions he wasn't willing to answer. It seemed to work as she didn't respond at first.

"I just wanted to help."

Shane snorted. Help. She didn't know them. From what she'd told them at the hospital, she and Nate hadn't even spoken a word to one another. And she downright seemed to hate him. Jake had no stock in either of them. Then there was the whole wallet thing, and her sneaking around about it. "Why were you even at our cabin, anyway?"

"I… saw him and…" That saucy tone was dissipating with each word. They stopped at a red light then. Shane's gaze came to an Arby's at the corner. Funny; he didn't remember one on the way to the hospital. Jake sat up higher in her seat as well. "Wait, where are we?"

The same thought had just crossed his mind. He could hear her shift in her seat. "Shane, where are we?"

Shit.

#

Jason hated hospitals more than anything else in the world. Well, except for the giant furry mascots he always saw at sporting events. Those things freaked him out with their massive heads and the way they never talked. But beyond those were hospitals; they made him nervous. Hospitals were the reminder of bad things and sad times. Bad things and sad times; that sounded like a lame song title or something.

Jason shook the thought from his head quickly as he pulled off the highway and began following the blue signs marked for his intended destination. He pressed Brown's number into his cell phone and waited for an answer. "Hey, Uncle Brown, it's me. I'm off the highway now."

"Just in time. We're finishing up with the paperwork."

As he hung up the phone and tossed it to the passenger seat, Jason also turned up the radio. One of his favorite oldies songs had just started. Oldies songs were fun. It made him laugh thinking of how many of those 'oldies' were only a few years older than himself. Singing along kept him steady as the hospital came into view. He let out a sigh. It was okay; he didn't have to go inside this one. He only had to pick up Brown and Nate, and could do so while staying in the car.

"And now," the DJ was saying as he pulled into the pickup lane. "Here's a classic from Demi Dra-"

Jason pressed the channel dial then leaned back against the seat. He let out a quick sigh as he waited. Nate and Brown came into view right as he was pulling out his phone again. Jason considered jumping out of the car but changed his mind. The faster they could leave the better.

"Hey, fro bro," he said as Nate was helped into the front seat. Brown climbed into the back as he talked on his cell phone. Jason could swear the man was going to get a tumor or something from using it so often. Maybe for Christmas he should get Brown one of those headset things.

Nate just smiled and nodded his head. It wasn't a genuine smile, but rather more of a grimace. Jason reached into the back seat and handed over a zip up hoodie which Nate put on immediately. Nate had asked him to bring it since he was still dressed in his t-shirt and sleeping pants. Jason watched as his baby brother struggled getting the sleeve over his bandaged hand first.

"How ya feeling?" he asked. Nate pulled on the other sleeve and shrugged. Jason waited for him to strap on his seatbelt before starting to drive. "Hungry?"

Nate shook his head.

"So back to camp I take it?" Jason tried again. Through the rearview mirror he could see Brown nodding his head. Nate just rested his forehead against the window. He wasn't going to get anything out of him tonight. Despite that, or maybe because of it, he tried yet another question. "So, what happened?"

Nate shot a glance his way. At least that was something. Jason had learned that if he didn't keep going with it, his brother would just shut down. Nate and Shane both did that, a reaction so foreign to Jason's mentality. Jason liked talking. He was a hugger. The light ahead of them turned red which gave him the opportunity to face his brother. "Nate, what happened?"

"I- panicked," Nate finally gave him a real response. He grabbed the strings of his hoodie and fidgeted with them. "I heard people coming."

Jason knew that already. It wasn't what he was asking, something he knew Nate comprehended based on the way he was behaving. "Nate, what really happened?"

"I told you."

"No, that's not it." Nate bit his lip. Jason could almost hear his younger brother's mind reeling from the statement. They both knew the drill all too well. "Talk to me."

"Are we almost there yet?"

_Sneaky move, little brother._ Jason took another turn. _But not sneaky enough._ "Hate to tell you, but I'm not letting it go until you talk." More silence followed from the passenger seat prompting Jason to add, "Can't hear your head shaking."

"What do you want me to say? I freaked, as usual. Nothing more to it than that." Jason heard a slight thump against the opposite window. His brother's muttered words were more muffled than usual, most likely from his face being against the glass. Well, this approach wasn't working.

_You sound so much like Shane right now._ If he hadn't known the reaction the statement would get, Jason may have said it out loud. It was true though. Nate was indeed pulling a Shane.

His heart sank as they continued making their way down the road. He had been wrong before; this was what he hated more than anything. He was the oldest brother. The oldest brother took care of things. The oldest brother cleaned up and protected. It was part of the job, just like beating up bullies or throwing shingles off the roof when the younger brother threw you against the wall and made you get stitches in your head. Cleaning up was what he had been doing for years. Yet there was no fix for this mess. It was like taking the genie from the bottle, or however that saying went. He forgot now.

The sign for camp came into view. Jason turned into the yard and made the journey back to the cabin his brothers had been staying in the last few days. He hadn't expected to be making this journey so soon.

"That's odd," Brown stated as Jason put the car into park. "They should have been back by now. They left before we did."

"Who?" Jason asked.

"Shane and Jake."

"Jake went with you?" Jason hadn't been told that part. He remembered the name from the conversations he'd had with Shane on the phone. "Jake, as in the girl from the kitchen Jake?"

"Yes. They were taking my car back here."

Jason nearly laughed. _Oh, to be a fly in that car._ Based on the words Shane had chosen for the girl he could only imagine. If Jason remembered right, they were along the lines of 'snobby', 'frumpy' or 'spunky'. Something like that anyway.

Jason climbed out of the car and shut the door. He heard another door shut behind him, signaling that Brown had gotten out as well. A phone rang again, prompting Brown to groan. Before answering he let out an exasperated, "Just one moment of peace is that too much – Hello?"

Only once he had gone around the back of the vehicle did Jason notice it. He pulled the sunglasses off his face and sighed. Grabbing the passenger door handle he jerked on it. Nate looked up at him. "Last stop, Camp Rock. Everybody out."

Nate's eyes glanced around before he shook his head. Jason's eyebrows furrowed. Then he understood. Holding out his hand, he asked, "Key?"

Nate reached into his pocket and produced the small silver object. As he took it, Jason knew he should have made Nate do this himself. Yet it was easier this way. He bounded up the stairs and unlocked the door. "Alright!"

From his position in the doorway Jason watched as Nate slowly climbed out of the car and ran into the cabin in what seemed to only be three bounding strides. The kid was quick. Jason shut the door behind him. Nate approached the left side bunk and grabbed a suitcase from the floor.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked him. Nate glanced up again briefly before he started tossing various clothing into the suitcase. He'd seen this before too many times. It always ended this way. Jason watched a moment as his brother folded jeans and shirts and placed them into the bag.

_Insanity._ The word pressed into his brain. _Insanity is the act of repeating an action and expecting different results._ Jason wondered where he had heard that phrase before. It didn't really matter. Whoever had first said it had forgotten a part, though. Insanity was being an oldest sibling. The oldest took care of things. Cleaned messes. Put things in order. Watched out and protected. It was more than a job; it was his life. And even if he didn't like, the fact remained that this was the hand he had been dealt.

Right then, Jason knew exactly what he needed to do.

#

"We're lost."

"No shit."

"Pull over."

"What?"

"Oh, you heard me," Jake groaned. Men. A small gas station came into view; she pointed towards it and said, "There. Pull over there, at that station."

Shane hesitated a moment before pulling into a spot at the front. Jake opened the door and swung her legs out. Wait a minute. She leaned back over the seat and reached towards the keys in the ignition.

"What are you-?" He began as she continued fumbling around for them.

"Not taking any chances," she responded before climbing out of the vehicle. As she closed the door, Jake took notice of Shane's face. For a moment she thought he might actually follow her inside, yet it didn't happen. Stepping inside she found a line at the counter, with what almost seemed a small crowd there. Jake looked back out towards the car, then began making her way towards the line. Her eyes fell on the rack of magazines as she passed the aisle which gave her an idea.

Taking a side step, Jake began making her way through the various aisles. She grabbed a Hot Tunes for Mitchie, since that was her favorite and she would be missing it this month due to being at camp. She let her eyes wander back to the front counter; still a few people in line. She had some time. Jake walked to where the snacks were located and grabbed a couple of items. Various bags of Combos caught her eye; Jake peered at the labels, searching out some Nacho flavored ones. There they were. Grabbing a bag, Jake headed back up front in time for the last person to leave.

"That all for you, miss?" the cashier asked her as he began ringing up her purchases.

"Yes, sir," Jake replied. She reached into her bag for her wallet.

"Six twenty-one."

Jake handed over a ten. She glanced outside again as the register was opened. Shane was now standing outside the vehicle. She scoffed slightly at the sight.

"Here you go, miss."

Jake held out her hand for the change the cashier gave her. As she put it into her bag, she looked at him. "Also, could you please tell me how to get to Fort Hill road? My friend and I are trying to get back to camp…"

"Oh, that music camp place, sure. I know that." The cashier handed over her bag of purchases. Jake listened closely as he explained where to go, and then thanked him. Taking the bag in hand she headed back out to the car where Shane was still waiting.

"We missed our turn," she informed him. "You should have gone right instead of left on Perch Drive."

"Took you long enough," he replied, letting his eyes fall on the extra bag in her hand. Jake considered chucking the keys at his head. Not worth it; she walked over and dropped them into his hand instead.

"There was a line, so I picked up some stuff. No harm done." Shane didn't move. Jake reached into the bag and pulled out some of her purchases, which she held towards him. He looked down towards it a moment, but still said nothing. Jake pushed it towards him. "For you. Figured you might be hungry since you… well, we missed lunch."

Shane looked down at the bag of cookies and bottle of lemonade in her hand, then back at her. He jiggled the keys a moment so he could open the door. Jake followed suit, heading over to her own side.

"Thanks."

The words made her stop, her hand on the handle. She blinked. Under her breath she let out a, "Huh."

"What?"

_You're still breathing_, Jake said in her head. She just might have uttered it out loud, except that she knew he had meant the sentament. "You're welcome."

"Well, then, let's go." Shane climbed into the driver's seat as Jake did the same on the passenger's side. Shane turned the ignition bringing the car back to life. Neither said another word as they returned to camp.


	10. Chapter 10

Two days; had it really been that long? Jake rubbed her eyes before glancing out the cafeteria windows again. It didn't seem possible, yet she knew it was true. Her cell phone screen, her mom, and even the small calendar kept in the kitchen had all told her it was now Friday, meaning two days had passed since the craziness of Wednesday. Compared to that brouhaha, all the camp drama seemed rather tame.

Fortunately the speculation among the campers over what had happened in practice hut three had settled, of which Jake was thankful. She had no real idea what Brown had told anyone in regards to the reason for such a mess, and frankly she really didn't care. Not when it came to that day; the day of craziness. The day she had finally met the young man whom she had run in to the first day of camp, only to have been told of his departure.

Jake snapped her head forward again. She was for the ninth – tenth, or maybe twentieth? – time zoning out. She had been feeling rather disjointed since those two evenings ago, which her logic told her was silly. She hadn't known Nate; they'd spoken only two sentences to each other.

"_You…"_ If she allowed her thoughts to slip, Jake's mind still saw the dark eyes looking at her, the look in them reflecting that hauntingly gripping look. _"I… I ran into you…"_

"_Yeah, yeah you did."_

"_Sorry about that…"_

If only she'd been given the chance to say goodbye. She and Shane had pulled onto the grounds upon their return from the hospital just in time to see a car leaving. The sight had made Jake's heart drop. It was silly; a silly reaction. Yet the fact remained that she had been hoping for the chance to talk to him, if only to say goodbye. Now though that opportunity was gone.

_Enough of that, now._ Adjusting the blinds to allow sunlight in Jake continued getting the cafeteria through its morning opening prep work. Early morning sunlight danced across the floor. The worship hymnal her family's congregation always seemed to sing on Sundays suddenly came to Jake's mind, odd to her since it really had nothing to do with the sight before her now.

"_This is the season for a new anointing; This is the season for a fresh outpouring…"_

Jake grabbed hold of a chair leg before setting it down on the floor. _One down…_ she scanned the room. _Only another 49 or so to go. _

"_This is the day, this is the day, This is the day that the Lord has made…"_ her mind sang. Jake let out a sigh and set down another chair. It may be a day the Lord had made, yet it would still be a long one.

#

Mitchie yawned heavily as she crossed through camp from her cabin. One thing was certain to her; if she came back next year, there would be no more breakfast shifts. It was hard enough trying to get up in time for them without the added threat of waking her cabin mates in the process. Sure the camp grounds were pretty this time of day, yet her bed was a much better sight.

She was just pulling out her key when Mitchie noticed a rather large white lump on the balcony which surrounded one side of the building. _What on earth? _She stopped to let her tired thoughts catch up with what her eyes were seeing. _Food delivery? No, that comes after breakfast…_

She moved towards the balcony again. From closer viewing the lump looked less like boxes and more like a pile of sheets. _This isn't the laundry cabin. Why would someone leave their stuff here_? Mitchie stepped onto the stairs and poked the lump experimentally. To her surprise she hit something hard and solid which shifted as her fingers touched it. Mitchie's hand recoiled and a shriek escaped her throat as a gruff voice spoke from under the cloth.

"Can't a guy get some peace!" She recognized that voice all-too-well. The sheet was thrown off in a huff, revealing a scowling Shane Gray.

Mitchie swallowed. "Sorry, I didn't mean… sorry."

Shane groaned again, a hand traveling towards the mop of hair which while disheveled still managed to look pretty good. "You said that already."

"Sor-" Mitchie stopped herself. Not that it appeared to matter much. It seemed Shane's pissed-off look began right from the moment he was awake. She watched him drop his hands roughly to his lap.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"You're – um well, outside the cafeteria," Mitchie explained quickly, at the same time taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her still-racing heart. His look changed to one which suggested he thought her words just now had been downright idiotic. Mitchie held up the key to illustrate her next sentence. "And I need to get inside."

"God…" Shane glanced around then looked towards the sky. Mitchie kept her eyes on his face, forcing herself not to look downward towards his chest, the muscles of which were still somewhat defined underneath the white beater he wore. His tone changed as their eyes met once more, shifting as if he had just realized something horrible. "God! What time is it?"

Mitchie blinked. "Um, well it's seven-" a quick glance at her watch followed, "twelve."

"Seven am? As in before noon?"

Mitchie blinked a few more times. "Yeah. If you want to hang around here I can get you-"

"Seven," Shane repeated absently, shaking his head and shifting so he was on his knees.

He didn't sound impressed. Mitchie found herself struggling for something to say in response. "Um-"

"People get up this early?"

"Well, _some_ of us have work to do," Jake's voice sharply called from towards the doorway before them. Mitchie hadn't even heard the door being unlocked much less opened.

Shane pulled himself to his feet, his face showing just how much he liked being scolded. He folded his arms. "And some of us," he snapped, mimicking Jake's tone, "have sleeping to do."

"That's what cabins are for." Jake crossed her arms. "Why are-"

"You'll have to get up in half-an-hour anyway," Mitchie offered. For his part, Shane just glared, yet not at her. His eyes didn't leave her sister, creating a rather awkward pause. Mitchie cleared her throat. "Look, I'm in – I know you have a nine am class today, so if you want to eat before-"

"There was an 'if' to that sentence of which I liked the sound." Shane bundled together his sheet and pillow under an arm. "Now if you excuse me, I'm headed to the practice huts."

"The – why?" Mitchie asked.

Shane glanced her way then spoke very slowly. "Because. I. Need. Some-where. To. Sleep."

"Don't you-" She had no time to finish before he was gone. She began to call after him when Jake stopped her.

"Don't mind Nick Carter two-point-oh, Mitchie. The stick must've gotten stuck further up his butt last night." The words sounded bitter, and yet something odd about them. Mitchie sighed before heading into the building. The lights were already on and the chairs moved to the floor, meaning the dining area was ready.

"Wow, you're fast," she commented, hoping to break at least some of the tension from earlier. Jake, however kept quiet, an oddity for her. Jake was a morning person. Mitchie turned to find her still in the doorway staring out towards the field. "Jake?"

Jake cleared her throat and shut the door. Maybe it was the lighting, yet Mitchie thought she saw her sister's face changing color. "Yeah?"

"What's going on? You've been odd lately."

"It's nothing." Well, that was a lie. Mitchie's eyes trailed from her sister to the doorway again. It was then that she realized what – or actually, who – Jake had been…

"Is this about.." she began, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"No!" Jake interrupted. She shoved her hands into her pockets. "No, Mitchie. Don't get one of your ideas, please."

"Hey, honey," Mitchie suddenly felt two hands grab onto her head and her body being pulled into someone else's. Her mom's voice came near her ear. "Sleep well?"

Mitchie nodded. Connie kissed Mitchie's forehead, bringing a small smile to her face. "Thanks, Mom."

"You still look tired, mija. You sure you slept okay?"

"Any time before noon and she's dead to the world. You know that." Jake had grabbed the tray of table shakers and was already towards the counter.

Connie let out a small laugh. She turned back to Mitchie. "Well then, stay away from anything that can catch fire. Now, come on."

Mitchie just looked towards her sister, whose face had seemed to gloss over in the matter of seconds since speaking. Something was bothering her; it didn't take a genius to figure that much. Mitchie felt her curiosity double as she suddenly became determined to find out what it was.

#

He'd known better than to be outside where the fan girls were this time of day. The schedule here was as clock work, meaning he could now time their appearances. And no girl was supposed to have been at the cafeteria before breakfast. None. Stupid camp; it really was going to be a long summer.

_I hate my life._

Shane paused to adjust the sheet and pillow under his arm. Brown's rules really had no protocol for what to do when one slept with a human chainsaw, one who's sound somehow had sliced through the barrier he'd set up that morning consisting of two pillows and a set of blankets. Somehow Shane hadn't noticed the sound before, or at least it hadn't bothered him so much until this morning. That was why he had abandoned his cabin for someplace quieter.

No matter; since he was now fully awake thanks to the stupid girl and Jake, he might as well go somewhere else. Shane walked the path slowly towards his cabin. The sound was gone; could it be he'd… Shane opened the door forcefully upon his entrance. The empty bed across from his was the first thing he noticed. Oh; right. Well now maybe he could have some peaceful sleep.

Or perhaps he could have some fun. A smile crossed his face. Shane ran down the steps, his load still in hand as he did. He made his way towards the huts, knowing exactly which one to enter. Ignoring the barrier set up by Brown the day before Shane went inside hut number three. In the middle of cleaning supplies and trash bags he found the dark-haired menace himself.

Before Nate had time to speak, Shane grinned and called, "Hey, little bro. Miss me?"

#

"Wait, he did what?" Jake paused midway across the kitchen from the counter which only seconds ago had been her destination, the tray of sugar shakers still in her hands.

"He – oh, you heard me," Mitchie replied.

Actually she hadn't. Whatever the crime or rude act, she shouldn't have been surprised; it was Shane Gray they were talking about. More like that Mitchie had been talking about non-stop. The intensive talking hadn't let up since they'd reached the kitchen. Mitchie had an idea about something for sure, and Jake had a sinking suspicion on just what it was all about.

"Never mind; I don't want to know. But... no one said or did anything about it?" she asked, still unsure of what they were talking about in the moment.

"Well, no." Mitchie bit her lip. "I mean, he's-"

"I know, I know, Shane Gray." How deep did fan devotion go, anyway? _Think I'm getting a migraine_, Jake thought bitterly as her sister continued babbling along. Jake screwed off the lids of the shakers on her tray angrily. A twisted thought crossed her mind then as she wondered if the girls around here were really so… what was the word, shallow?... as to stand all the crap just in order to say they had been in the presence of the Shane Gray. Jake shuddered, yet the anger inside continued to grow. "That's just stupid, Mitchie. It's pathetic, that's what it is, going gaga over a guy like that, especially him!"

Mitchie looked hurt. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't!"

"Could have fooled me."

Jake groaned. "I'm just – sick of his crap, that's all. He acts like he runs this place. The way he's been acting, I'm surprised someone didn't do something to him."

"Do something, what do you mean?"

"Like put shaving cream in his hand, or maybe take some scissors to that hair of his."

"You mean, cut his hair?" Mitchie gasped, causing Jake to laugh.

"Well, it's what I'd do. He looks overdo for a trim, anyway. Oh Mitchie, I'm kidding." Only she wasn't fully.

Mitchie shook her head. "You're crazy."

"And you're piddling again." Connie side stepped around Jake, bringing with her the second tray of sugar shakers. "Less yapping, more work please."

"Alright. I'll start the dishes." Mitchie grabbed the apron on her way towards the back.

Jake sighed as she grabbed the container of sugar and began refilling the shakers.

"Are you okay, mija?" her mother asked as she flashed a glance of concern her way. Jake gave back a small smile, hoping it would deter any questions. Slowly she began filling the shakers, although her heart wasn't in it.

"Yeah, sure," Jake replied sullenly, snapping back to attention. Clearing her throat she added, "Sorry. I'm just zoning out again."

Connie brushed some of the white powder from off the counter. "I've noticed. You sure you're okay? Something on your mind?"

Jake shook her head. Her mom continued watching, prompting her to finally ask, "Why?"

"Well, you've been standing there putting flour in those shakers, that's all."

Jake gasped and looked down to find her mom was correct. No way; she could have sworn it had been the right canister she'd grabbed off the shelf. Quickly she began scooping together the shakers which had already been done. "Oh, Mom, I'm so, so sorry-"

Connie reached over and cupped Jake's chin into her hand. "I know you are, mija. Does this have anything to do with what happened Wednesday?"

_Yes._ Jake sighed, unsure of what to say at first. Her mom was still waiting for an answer. Jake sighed. "Yeah, sorta."

"Mija." The two shared a hug for a moment. Connie squeezed her daughter tighter than usual, which brought some comfort to Jake. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. Take this batch of cookie dough to the walk-in then gather the trash."

"Yes ma'am." Jake grabbed the bowl and was about to begin on her way when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked back towards to mom. "Something else?"

"Take your time with the trash. Walk around; get some fresh air," her mom instructed.

Taking a walk sounded like about the last thing Jake wanted to do at the moment. "But, Mom, Mitchie's-"

"I'll worry about Mitchie. You do as you're told. Now." Connie took hold of both of Jake's shoulders and pushed her towards the cooler. "And I'd better not see you again for at least ten minutes, you hear me?"

Jake stumbled her way towards the back gripping tight on the bowl. The last thing she needed would be to drop it, although that would be her luck right about now. She took great care in making sure she had completed her tasks correctly and not missed anything.

As she made her way to the back steps she felt herself relax a little. _It's going to be a good day_, she thought to herself. _You'll see. It's gotta get better_. Her mind slipped back to the lyrics she had sang earlier.

"_This is the day, this is the day…"_ Jake sang under her breath. She dropped the bags of trash into the dumpster then dropped the lid. She flinched slightly at the loud clang the lid made as it closed again. Opps. She turned and walked out of the area again. _"I will rejoice, I will rejoice, I will rejoice and be glad in it…"_

That hadn't taken long at all. The kitchen dumpster was only a few feet from the building. It made Jake wonder briefly why Shane had been so lazy that afternoon when this had been his duty. Ugh; why had her thoughts gone back to him? Jake pushed up the sleeves of her long-sleeved shirt. It had been silly to wear it, anyway. She could tell even now it was going to be a hot day.

Her mom had been right about one thing; she needed to not think for awhile. She'd go where her feet took her then. Jake passed a few of the practice huts, the song still on the edge of her breath.

"_That the sons and daughters of the king of glory may arise and shine…" _The line reached her head just as she passed the row of cabins, making her chuckle. She imagined hardly anyone was ready to rise and shine just yet this morning. As she walked around the cabins Jake took extra care towards not making any unnecessary noise. Some movement was coming from various buildings, yet not much. Music could even be heard playing in the wooded area nearby. These kids were dedicated, Jake had to give them that.

She allowed her thoughts to wander as she continued throughout the grounds. It was day four of camp; how many more did that leave? Hopefully those which remained would be less adventurous. Jake pondered on how things were going back at home and how her dad was doing. She should write him a letter tonight.

The reflection of sunlight on water caught Jake's eye. Her feet had taken her to the lake. She felt tempted to take off her shoes as she walked the shore, casting her eyes downward. A small line of buildings came into view all-too-soon. Her stomach lurched at the sight. Her feet had taken her right to the cabin. The Gray brothers' cabin; no, just Shane's now. Turning quickly on her heel Jake headed back in the other direction. Hurriedly she resumed singing as well.

The song fell silent as she reached the clearing near the practice huts once more. One in particular caught her eye, the one with a taped up window on its door. That must have been where all the commotion had taken place. Jake wondered just what story Brown had come up with to tell the campers. Maybe she would ask later.

Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. She'd never actually been given the chance to talk to Brown within the last day or so, not since being at the hospital. Things had been too busy for that. Life didn't stop for anything, after all. Jake paused, continuing to look towards the cardboard and tape where once glass had been. The whole walk thing had been a bad idea after all. No sense in dallying any longer.

Turning again Jake went around the building and began making her way back towards the kitchen. The sound of voices came from behind. Jake turned, entertaining the thought that they might be coming from inside the building itself. It died upon seeing campers running through the field towards the kitchen as well. It was almost time for breakfast, after all.

#

"So where were you this morning?" Caitlyn asked as she, Lola and Mitchie made their way through the food line. It seemed her presence had been missed this morning. Before she could answer another voice carried from across the room.

"Mitchie, over here." Tess made a motion with her head for Mitchie to come join her and the other two girls at the table. Mitchie bit her lip. That was right; they needed to discuss their performance of Saturday.

"Sorry," she hurriedly whispered to Caitlyn who was still getting the last bit of food in line. "I'll catch you at lunch, though."

"That's what you said about breakfast," Lola interjected. "And dinner yesterday."

"I know, I'm sorry. I promise though, lunch. Us. You two and me." She didn't wait for an answer before hurriedly making her way across the cafeteria. About halfway across was when she saw the figure of her mother in the room_. Uh, no; not when I'm sitting with them, please._

"Hi, girls," Connie called cheerfully. The other girls at the table were staring at her, making Mitchie want to sink to the floor.

"Um, hi," she called, trying to sound friendly enough to appease her mom while also maintaining aloofness as not to gain suspicion. "Yummy breakfast."

She regretted the words as soon as she said them. Connie put a hand on her hip. "And what would you know about it, you haven't touched anything."

"Breakfast carbs are a huge no-no," Tess informed the older woman as she pushed away her plate. Mitchie sent her mom a fierce look, attempting to speed up the growingly awkward conversation. Her mom cast back a knowing look, the sort only a mother could look. Mitchie quickly looked away and stared back at her plate.

"Oh, pardon me," her mother was saying. Mitchie didn't allow her eyes to leave the plate in front of her. "I just wanted to meet Mitchie's new friends."

Mitchie listened as the other girls at the table introduced themselves. Thankfully, her mom didn't have the chance to make her own introduction before headed back towards the kitchen. Only then did she raise her eyes again.

"That was weird," Peggy commented.

Across the table Tess had an eyebrow disdainfully raised. Mitchie forced herself not to swallow as the blonde looked towards her. "You know her?"

"Yeah." _Mom, why'd you have to put me on the spot?_ Mitchie's mind reeled only a few seconds before the words came. "Don't you? She's famous."

"Famous?" It was Ella who spoke this time.

"Well yeah," Mitchie took a bite of her food as she contemplated what more to say. "I mean, she's just about the best celebrity chef out there. She worked for Nick and Jessica before they broke up, and you know, folks like that. Thought you knew that. We're lucky we even got her here."

The words came out faster than Mitchie could have managed to stop them. She couldn't help but squirm though. It would only be a matter of time before the truth came out. Maybe she should…

"You guys! Look at this," Tess declared motioning to the phone in her hand. Mitchie had to get up from where she had been sitting to see the screen, which made her the last to get there. Looking over Tess's shoulder she found the web browser opened to a familiar site, a picture engulfing the screen. As the other girls whispered and chatted, Mitchie continued to stare.

_No… way…_


	11. Chapter 11

"Hello, hello!" a familiarly-accented voice called cheerfully into practice hut number three.

"Shit, it's Brown!" Nate looked up from the bag of trash in his hands in time to see his older brother climbing behind a set of boxes across the room.

_If I'd known that's all it would take to get rid of you_… he thought rather bitterly. He had no idea why Shane had picked the hut Nate was cleaning to come avoid his class. He didn't even know why Shane was avoiding class in the first place. There was no way the campers were horrible enough to deserve this kind of treatment.

The door opened then. "Morning," Brown said happily. His head moved in an approving manner as he examined the room. "Looking quite good in here already."

Nate wiped his face in an effort to remove the newly-formed sweat from it. He then gave a swift nod in return, unwilling to speak. Truth be told he was still rather pissed at Brown for making him stay; that and after a couple hours in he was very much over cleaning the hut. Fixing up what he'd managed to break or destroy two days before had been fairly easy. It was the actual cleaning which seemed to be taking so long.

Least he didn't have to worry about any unwanted visitors, minus Shane of course, since the hut had been deemed off-limits until the job was done. Then again he wouldn't have that stress had he just been allowed to go home. What Jason, and Brown for that matter, had been thinking in keeping him here Nate would never know.

"How's the hand?" Brown asked.

Nate shrugged. Almost instinctually he adjusted the bandage on it. He had a feeling fighting it would become a daily routine until when the stitches were removed.

"Not too sore, is it?"

A head shake was all Brown got. For an ever-brief second Nate's gaze fell towards the stack of boxes at the other end of the room. Just visible behind it was the sole of a shoe. Nate knew he should inform Brown of Shane's presence, yet he also had a sinking suspicion as to what would come from it. Sleeping outside just didn't sound all that appealing, and Shane already seemed knocking on the door of that idea based on what he called Nate's 'chainsaw snoring'.

"Good, good…" Brown was distracted. Nate returned his attention to the bag in his hands, looking up again when he heard his name being called. Brown had taken a seat on the stage steps and was motioning for the young man to join him. "I'd like a word."

Nate ignored the gesture and continued cleaning, although he did keep his eyes somewhat on Brown to show him he was playing some attention.

"Nate, come on. Take a break. There's no rush on finishing here, you know."

True, but the sooner he could be done with it the better. Nate remained silent however.

"Nate; sit," Brown commanded. This time Nate did as he was told. "Now, let's talk."

Nate sighed and cleared his throat.

"Alright then, I'll start. You're scared, aren't you?"

Nate glanced up but Brown wasn't looking at him anymore. A rather ragged expression had come across the older gentleman's face. Nate allowed his hands to fall onto the guitar Shane had left moments before on the stage. Technically he wasn't supposed to play, not with a bandage on his hand, yet he really didn't need to play. Just the feel of the instrument was enough for him in that instant.

"Scared of… your own fans?" Brown tried.

Okay, maybe he did need to play something. With his good hand Nate plucked at the guitar's strings. He'd never tried playing left-handed before really.

"Scared on whom, Nate? Nate."

His hand fumbled along the note he was trying to play. He was so used to it being the other way. Having the guitar turned like this put him in unfamiliar territory. Nate struck the note again, listening to its sound. It came out better this time.

"Nathanael." Uh oh; Brown never called him by his full name. Nate felt something firm on his hand, holding it still. He looked down to see Brown had leant forward, resting one of his larger muscled hands on top of Nate's. He looked up slowly to meet Brown's eyes and saw them full of concern and uncertainty. "I'm right, aren't I? That's why you won't leave your cabin, why you block everyone out, because you don't want to let them get close. You're scared."

There were no accusations or threats, yet Nate still felt animosity filling him. _I don't – block – everyone out. _His thoughts came out slowly. It was the truth, or at least the truth he let himself believe. There were his brothers after all. And Big Rob. And Brown. And that guy from the cable company – Joe, right? – who he always talked with on the phone when there was a problem.

A second hand folded over the first. "Nate, is this about that day? Shane's- It is, isn't it. God, Nate, I-"

He didn't want to hear it. He already knew what would be said. He knew it before Brown could utter anything, and utter it he did. All of it. Nate listened dutifully as Brown droned.

"So there's a question now, isn't there," Brown continued. The words signaled he was nearing the end of what he had to say. "What are you going to do? Are you just going to keep hiding away, never letting anyone close enough to see you? You're a pop star, Nate. You can't hide away."

Nate looked away then pulled back, standing up as he rested his hands against the guitar face again. He let his left hand slide against the strings in an awkward, completely screwed up attempt at a scale. He'd heard this all before, too many times in fact.

"Think about it. Call me when you're finished for the day. Remember, no rush." Brown stood as well and leaned towards the boxes. "Now come on, Shane. We don't want you to be late for your class, do we? And don't pretend that you don't hear me speaking."

Shane's groan became audible immediately. There was a hesitance before he stood yet soon enough Shane got up, the ever-present scowl firmly set on his features. "Oh joy; my own private chauffeur. Is that a camp amenity, or am I just special?"

"Think about what I said Nate," Brown said as if Shane hadn't spoken. A tense moment passed before Shane joined him near the door, a pillow and sheet still in hand. Brown grabbed his shirt. "Come on, Miss Daisy. We have a class to get you to."

#

"No… way," Mitchie repeated, this time out loud. Her eyes were still fixed on the screen of Tess's phone, on which was a website she knew right way to be the Zack Taylor blog. A rag celebrity blog for sure, but one many folks still went to for the latest gossip.

The headline read 'Shane Gray finds new leading lady' and featured a rather amateur shot of the middle Gray brother with a girl. The two were standing by an SUV and based by the angle, it appeared they were holding hands while facing each other. The girl was faced with her back to the camera, but it didn't matter. The shirt she was wearing gave her away; Mitchie had bought that exact same shirt for her sister at Christmas. Jake had even worn it two days ago.

Two days ago; Mitchie's mind began making the connections. Jake had been gone most of the day, for a reason she'd never disclosed. A reason, Mitchie now realized, which involved Shane. No wonder Jake had been so spacey lately. Mitchie's mind played back the whole scene from that morning. Shane sleeping in front of the cafeteria… had he been waiting for Jake? And Jake had been standing at the door, watching him go, too…

"Earth to Mitchie!" Tess snapped. "Hello? What's wrong with you?"

"I, um…" Mitchie stared at the screen a moment longer. "I'm just surprised, it all. It's pretty shocking stuff."

Tess looked back at the screen and began flipping through the rest of the article. "She doesn't look that pretty. I mean, really."

Mitchie kept her eyes on the page as well. There were a few other photos, but none seemed to have a clear shot of Jake's face. Then Tess's words sank into her mind. Jake, not pretty? Mitchie had to bite her tongue not to retort back on that one. Her sister was very pretty, or least pretty enough. First thing first though. First she would talk to Jake.

"Oh wow," Ella exclaimed. She pointed to where Mitchie had been sitting earlier. "Is that the new issue of _Hot Tunes_? How'd you get it?"

"Oh, yeah. My… mom sent it over." Mitchie attempted to shrug as if it was no big deal.

"May I see?"

"Sure, help yourself." She was really fighting the urge to run into the kitchen. She needed an excuse. "Hey guys, I gotta take off. Forgot my phone in the cabin."

"What do you need-" Peggy began.

"No, it's not that. I have to call my mom. In China. You know, the time change and all. I'll meet you all in time for class." Doing her best to hurry without running, Mitchie headed out of the cafeteria and rounded the building. Through the back screen door she could see her sister wrapping something. "Jake!"

Jake appeared not to hear her. Mitchie tripped slightly as she headed inside the room. "Jake! Give me your phone."

"Mitchie, what is it? Mitchie!"

Mitchie jumped at her sister's outburst. Instead of saying anything, she held out her hand. Jake sighed and handed over the small black box. As fast as she could she called up the internet.

_Shane and Jake… my sister and Shane Gray… this is crazy_, she thought as the application loaded. There was no way it was true, yet the picture proved something was going on between them. Or at least that they were together. Then again, would it really… it suddenly occurred to her, or at least passed lazily through her mind, what would be their celebrity pet name. Shake… kinda cute, in a disgusting sort of way.

"Mitchie, tell me-"

At last the sight page was loaded. Mitchie made sure the picture was in view then handed over the phone. "Jake, care to explain this?"

#

"This is crazy. I don't need a chaperone!" It was the fourth time he had said it and yet Shane's words were falling on deaf ears. At least Brown had let go of his arm, although he was following behind rather close. Shane cursed himself for not having found a better place to hide earlier. To think, he'd actually considered it clever going to where Nate was cleaning. He should have known.

"Considering it's now day five and you've managed to blow off all your classes, I sort of think you do," Brown retorted. Ahead of them practice hut number four came into view. "And before you play the Nate-was-hurt card, I know on good authority that you were missing class on your own accord Wednesday."

"Well, that's what someone gets when they schedule classes at an ungodly hour of the day," Shane snapped back.

"Not an excuse, Shane."

"This is bull, anyway. I didn't sign up for this."

"No, but guess what? We all have to do things for which we didn't sign up nor want to do once in awhile. It's called life."

_Nice try._ Shane allowed a scoff to escape his throat. This fatherly shit may have always worked on his brothers, yet Shane knew the truth. He'd seen it with his own eyes. It was like his father always told his sons; words were one thing and actions quite another. Actions were louder than words, and Brown was a hypocrite if ever one lived. His fortune cookie sayings were as empty as the promises he had made, the ones he'd backed out of when needed most.

Not that it mattered anymore. Shane and his brothers had gotten through without Brown or anyone else. They'd survived well enough on their own, and like hell would Shane allow this two-faced lump of skin to sneak his way back in again. No; Brown had lost his chance.

"Have you listened to a single thing I've said?" Oh, that was right; Brown was still talking.

Shane turned his face into a smile. "Yep."

"Shane." Brown didn't seem convinced.

"Brown?" He was still holding on to the innocent grin. "Why do you always say my name like I've done something wrong?"

"Allow me to ponder that one." Shit; he was using that concerned voice again. Shane fought off another scoff. If he'd cared so damn much… "Piece of advice, Shane. Stop acting like it's all about you, because it's not."

_Right, well, wish the parts that weren't would leave me the hell alone then._ Shane took a step forward so he and Brown were only an inch or so separated. "In my world, it is."

"That so? Oh, look; we're in my world." The intimidation attempt failed as Brown put an arm around Shane. He used his free arm to motion at the surrounding scenery. "And in my world, you're considered an instructor of this camp, which means you've got to instruct. Starting with hip hop dance, right now."

Shane just glared while folding his arms. It was still as he considered what, if anything, he could retort when a female voice came to where they were standing. Shane found himself cringing before it registered who was talking, then he groaned.

"Jake, what-" he began.

"Shut up; just shut up right now." Oh, she was pissed. The frown on her face was deeper than he'd ever seen. The corresponding look was not a good one, and for a moment he considered apologizing. Then again, he really had no clue as to what he'd done.

"This is all your fault," Jake continued. She had made her way between the two men and despite the few inches he had on her, had her face as close to his as it could get. It was then Shane saw the slight wetness of tears in the corners of her eyes. She wasn't just pissed; she was hurt about something. "You-"

"Okay, settle now. Easy." Brown pulled Jake away her target. He looked between the two and then let out a sigh. "I'll take care of this. Shane, you go into class."

"But-" Jake started.

"No. I'm not giving him another excuse to miss class. We'll talk, Shane teaches. Hip hop dance. Now." With one hand Brown took hold gently of Jake's arm, pulling her away from the door. With the other he pushed Shane towards it, but not before pulling the sheet and pillow from Shane's grip. "Just in case. Go."

#

She had been fuming the whole way to the practice hut. From the moment Mitchie told her about the pictures posted online. Her mind had just shut down as hurt, embarrassment, and about fifty other emotions took hold. Yet by the time she and Brown reached his cabin, Jake was numb.

"So," Brown set down the items from his hands onto the floor and sat on his desk. He folded his arms and leaned forward. "Spill."

Jake swallowed, unsure how exactly to say it. Instead she handed over her phone. Brown took it and looked over the screen. Only after he scrolled through the page did he speak. "I see."

He… saw? He saw? To her surprise the anger didn't come out as expected, but rather the tears. Someone had the nerve to photograph her at a gas station and then send it to a trash-talking blog for the whole world to see. And that blog had the nerve to write a whole story about her and Shane! As if she wasn't in enough crap already. Sinking against the wall, Jake bit her lip hard.

"Hey now." Jake felt something brush against her. She looked up to find Brown had gone to where she was holding out a tissue. She took it and blew her nose. "It's alright."

"H-how… why…" she stammered.

"Come here." Brown led her to his desk, where he grabbed another tissue for her. "Look, Jake, I'm afraid I'm not very good at pep talks, but here goes. I'm afraid being in the subject of trash is part of the game. It sucks, but that's how things are."

Jake raised an eyebrow. Brown was right; he sucked at pep talks.

"But," Brown continued. "You can't let them get to you. They'd sell their own mother if it meant more money for them. I know what this is about, as, more importantly, do you and Shane."

Jake offered a weak smile before letting out a deep breath. He had a point. At the same time… Jake lifted her eyes and looked around at the nearby wall. It was covered with various photographs. Her gaze found a pretty young woman with brown dark hair which made her think of something. "Brown, can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"It's what I wanted to ask at the… well, the hospital. The other day."

"Fire away." Brown returned to the desk and sat on it.

"I just…" She struggled thinking how to word it. "I don't understand. I mean, Shane pretty much seems to hate everybody, and he told me that Nate hates people. So I just.."

"You want to know why they're in the business if they hate it so much, that it?" Brown offered.

"Something like that." Jake fidgeted with the tissue. "It makes no sense. If you hate people, or are terrified of them-" The image of Nate's eyes the first day they had met came to mind, causing her to pause. "Well then, why go into a profession where you are constantly surrounded by them?"

Brown was quiet as if pondering over how to respond before giving her an answer. "It's not really my place to answer that question, least not fully. But let me ask you something." He made his way to the window and pointed outside. "You see that?"

"What?" Jake looked out to find campers sitting together. One had a guitar in her hand. "Yeah."

"There's your answer."

"I don't get it."

"Well course not." Brown smiled to himself. "Asking a musician not to play music would be asking a bird not to fly. It doesn't fit."

"Oh-kay."

"Musicians, the really good ones anyway, don't make music because it makes them a lot of money or any of that. And as soon as that's the reason, well then, they've lost it. They need to let it out some way, all the shi- stuff inside them, and music does that. That's what music is; it's who they are. They just want to be heard."

"Heard, but not seen?" Her thoughts were still being over taken by the image.

"Sometimes," Brown answered quietly. "Sometimes things are- no, now I told you that's not my place. But you understand my meaning?"

"I guess so."

"Well, suppose that's the best I can do then." Brown gave her arm a light squeeze. "Don't worry. It will blow over quicker than you know it. Won't take long for one of those Disney kids, that Miley-whoever or that girl who plays a wizard or whoever, to do something deemed news-worthy. And in the meanwhile, just stay tight."

"Thanks." She still wasn't feeling one-hundred percent easy on the matter, but talking to Brown had helped.

"If you need anything, door's always open," he offered as she made her way to the door. "Oh, and Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"What exactly is on the menu for this afternoon?"

#

Nate put away the cleaning supplies and closed the closet door. That left only one job to do for the day, and it was the one he had been dreading all morning. Nate grabbed the bags of garbage and made his way to the door. He opened it slowly; taking care in making sure no one else was near before taking another step. The action was habit by now, a part of him he both needed and despised. Normal people didn't worry about others seeing them. Normal people didn't take forever leaving a room; they just left.

Yet if he did that, there was no telling who would be out there or just who could see him.

He ran the whole way, quite a task considering there were two full bags and he had only one good hand in which to carry them. Still Nate managed alright. Throwing the bags of trash into the dumpster, he contemplated what to do. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Brown's number. The voice message kicked on.

Nate cleared his throat as the beep came over the line. "Hey, Uncle Brown; it's me. The hut's clean…"

His heart skipped a beat as he heard footsteps approaching. Nate shut the phone and snuck behind the dumpster so he was no longer in view. Hunched over, it suddenly became clear just why Jason wouldn't let him go home. Nate sighed and pulled himself back up.

Whoever had been out there didn't seem to have seen him, but rather just continued on their way. Peaking around the giant bin Nate spotted copper from the corner of his eye. _Jake._ Shane had told him her name the day before. Nate nearly called out to her, yet stopped himself as she went further out of ear shot.

What was he doing? What on earth possessed him? Call out to her… Nate snapped his mouth shut again.

Nate glanced in the direction Jake had gone. He saw the giant cafeteria building. It made since considering it was a little after noon; lunch time. Nate starred at his phone a moment longer before sticking it into his back pocket. He then began walking towards the building. He felt the slight pangs of panic beginning to form, yet made himself continue. He only stopped – again – as he reached the steps.

Nate stared at the front doors of the building uncertain of just what he was about to do. He swallowed, allowing himself to move up the first step. He rested a shaking hand on the railing. His mind reprimanded itself. He had come here with the intention of going inside, or at least he thought that had been his intention. This was where Jake had gone, and if he wanted the chance to talk to her, this was where he needed to go. And he did want to talk to her.

But this was also where the crowd was. His mind reeled as he continued to stare at the doors, taking back the step he had made. Did he really want to do this? Could he do it? Sure he wanted to talk to Jake, yet at the same time he didn't. Why was it even so important to him to do so? What would he say? Maybe she didn't want to see him. Considering their only two encounters thus far, he wouldn't blame her.

_Come on, Nate. Grow a backbone._

The sounds of laughter and clapping filled the air. Nate tensed instinctually. Crowds; he wanted to like them, or at least not fear them. He wanted to be able to mingle with people his age. Surely those inside would treat him as an equal, especially if they didn't know he was a Gray brother. All he had to was keep that portion of his life a secret. Surely if he did that, they would treat him just like anyone else and take no real notice of him… right?

_But what if-?_

Taking in another shuddering breath, Nate pulled open the door and stepped into the room.


	12. Chapter 12

Immediately the sounds of the crowd hit him; talking, laughing and the occasional shout being thrown across the room. Nate found himself temporarily frozen in place as it all registered. Any minute they would go quiet... take notice of him... begin to stare. Any minute now they would come and hurt him. Because that's what crowds did; they hurt...

_I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this._

He braced himself for physical contact, but none came. After a tense moment Nate's muscles eased and he took a step forward. Nothing happened as he did. He ran a hand through his hair, letting in a breath of relief. Still noth-

No, right then the door opened behind him. Nate turned to see a tall boy holding a pair of drumsticks. For half a second Nate's instinct told him to run, yet it faded as he noticed the boy's hesitant expression and the way he was using the drum sticks to tap uncertainly against his legs as he hovered in the doorway.

_Not a threat._ There were no threats; no one here wanted to hurt or leap on him. It was just his nerves again. He certainly had developed his fair share over the years. Nate stepped to the side so the boy could make his way past. His eyes scanned the room hoping an idea would come. Most of the campers had already gotten their food and were sitting at the various tables, yet some were still waiting.

_You can do this._ Nate walked over and stood behind the last person in line. His eyes continued scanning the room. _You're okay._ Slowly he began to relax more. He wasn't completely comfortable here, but he wasn't as tense as assumed. That thought caused the slightest hint of a lazy smile to drape across his face.

Then for the second time that day Nate's eyes sensed copper brown. He blinked and turned so it would become more visible. Sure enough he had seen it. Jake was here, sitting at one of the tables across the room from where he was now. She was facing away from him, her straight locks being the only thing he could see. Strange; Nate could have sworn there was curl to her hair. She was locked in conversation with another girl, this one with toffee colored hair and bright eyes who was facing Nate's direction.

He didn't realize he was staring until he felt the sensation of someone tapping his shoulder. A male voice called out, "Hey, man, step ahead. Line's moving forward."

Nate turned to find a young man around his age behind him. For a second he wondered what this guy was talking about but soon remembered where they were standing. Looking back ahead he found the person he had once been standing behind now about five yards in front of them. Nate hurriedly stepped forward to catch up, grabbing one of the red trays sitting in a stack as he did.

"S-sorry," he stammered to the guy behind him.

"Don't sweat it," was the reply as they took another step forward. "You were just zoned out. I respect that."

Nate quirked an eyebrow at the weird answer he had just received, although he kept his eyes forward.

"Name's Barron by the way. My pal Sander's over there." Barron pointed to the table Nate had just been watching where another guy had joined the two girls.

"Oh, um, Nate. I'm Nate," he responded to his new acquaintance, knowing that was usually how conversations went.

"Nate? You mean like that guy from Connect 3? You know, the brother nobody's ever seen," Barron continued casually, not noticing Nate freeze at the mention of his identity. Nate snapped himself out of it as the pair stepped forward again, Barron still talking. "... I mean, he's freakin' famous and all. Shouldn't be want to brag? I would."

Nate swallowed, not sure how to take the ramble. He decided just to shake it off; at least Barron didn't doubt something like if it was Nate who was really playing or singing the band's songs like members of the media did. A pause followed. Nate realized Barron was probably waiting for some sort of response.

"Yeah, I've heard of that guy," he stated simply. Nate only hoped that his words were coming out casual and not reflecting the uneasiness in his gut. "But my last name's... Baines."

"Ah, cool." Barron nodded. "So-"

But Nate wasn't listening. Instead he found the back of his mind wondering why that had been the name he'd uttered. He forced a swallow before repeating. "Yeah, Baines. Nate Baines."

"Right. You said that already."

Nate blinked, suddenly aware there had been more to the conversation. He followed the path Barron's outstretched arm led back to the table. His chest heaved with a mixture of excitement and hesitance. He was being asked to join them. Dread came next, for which almost immediately Nate reprimanded himself. Each table looked to only have the capacity for eight. Surely he could handle eight people, especially since he was at least somewhat familiar with one. "Um, yeah I thi- sure."

"Cool." Now Barron seemed to have some hesitance, or maybe even second thoughts about the invitation. Nate bit the inside of his cheek, suddenly feeling rather twitchy.

The pair finally reached where the food was located. As they began filling their trays Nate snuck a peek towards Jake again. She was still facing the other direction. It suddenly dawned on him the danger he was in. He was alone in a room full of strangers minus one; a girl who could easily tell every last one of those here just who he was. Why hadn't he thought of it before? All it would take was one word; one word and his secret would be out. He could imagine the crowds that would form... the questions... the stares and inevitable...

"- from, man?"

Nate jumped. Right; he was still in conversation with someone. Based on the look on Barron's face, it was going south quickly.

"You alright?" Barron asked.

Nate nodded while at the same time allowing his eyes to move towards the back doors. He wondered just how many steps it would take to reach it, and how fast he could go. _Easy, Nate. _He scooped some coleslaw onto his plate slowly."Um, sorry... just... um, what- what did you ask?"

Slowly Barron repeated himself, "I said, where you from?"

Okay, he could answer that one truthfully. "New Jersey."

Barron led the way out of the line and towards the table, rattling off about random things. He waved as the two approached, which gained a wave back from his friend. Nate kept his eyes focused on them and tried his best to ignore the growing volume surrounding him. _You can do this... _His knuckles began to ache from the grip he had on the tray.

He'd nearly reached the destination when he suddenly side-swiped a girl sending his lunch all over the plastic of the tray. His muscles froze even more as the girl huffed and tossed her blond hair then placed a hand on her hip. Nate braced himself to give an apology when suddenly she completed the turn needed to face him. A giant smile swept over her face.

"Well, hello there," she said boldly. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Tess Tyler."

Nate raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Tyler, as in-?"

"Yep," she replied, glancing down at her nails a moment. She must have gotten that reaction often.

"Oh." Nate made a move towards the table again.

Unfortunately, Tess held out an arm to stop him. "And just what is your name, stranger?"

One of her eyebrows rose as she looked Nate from head to toe then back to head. Nate squirmed under her rather intense gaze. He also felt his vocabulary slip, leaving him to mutter, "Um, Nate?"

"Silly." Tess's face broke out in another smile and her voice swayed towards sickly sweet. "Why are you saying that like it's a question?"

Nate cleared his throat. "It's- I'm Nate."

Now it was Tess's eyes which widened. "Really? Nate Gray?"

Maybe it was only in his head, but to Nate the question came out almost at shouting level. Those within hearing distance turned their direction. Nate's gut began panicking again as he sensed their eyes widening. _No... God, please, no..._

"No, no, no," he rattled off hurriedly. To his distain a few people continued to stare. Letting out a cough, he added, "It's Baines. Nate Baines."

He added an unsure grimace for effect. The faces turned away, with an occasional glance being thrown back where he and Tess were standing. Tess's face fell.

"Oh," was all she said, obviously losing interest.

It was then he felt something sticky on his fingers. Looking down Nate caught sight of the spilled juice cup which had gone all over the rest of the meal. "I gotta... clean..." he started. He started to turn in order that he might walk away, but she grabbed his arm before he could go anywhere. He nearly yelped as his stomach lurched.

"You know, _Nate_," she began, "in our group, we have important people, like the VIPs of the camp. And we usually don't let just _anyone_ join. But _you_ could be an exception."

Nate glanced over to the table in question where two other girls sat giggling furiously and waving. He gulped, wondering what was so funny.

"Well, um, that's- really, really nice of you, but I'm, you know, gonna go sit with some guys - over here- there, you know," Nate managed, slipping over the words slightly.

"Whatever." The smile was gone and Tess's tone changed to haughty faster than a light switch. Despite the indifference Nate still sensed she was attempting to salvage some dignity in having just been rejected, although he really didn't know why. "Come on, Mitchie."

Nate's ears perked at the name. Mitchie; the girl at the lake. He had to force his face not to fall when the girl only moments before he'd believed to be Jake turned their way. Even then he couldn't stop his thoughts, which at the moment were in a rushed panic.

_Oh sh- now what?_

The two girls talked yet he heard nothing. The tray also instantly felt insurmountably heavy; Nate's hands shook. Slipping out as quickly as he could, Nate headed back towards the food line. He took his time throwing away the now-ruined lunch. As he grabbed a new tray, the thought of leaving became very appealing. There was no reason for him to stay, after all. It wasn't like anyone would notice.

From the corner of his eye Nate watched as Mitchie made her way over to the table where Tess and the other girls were sitting. He turned back to the food. His mind was running full speed yet he stared at the line of options blankly, wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do now.

#

_"It's not really my place to answer that question..."_

She should have asked why, or at least asked Brown something. It would certainly have beat fumbling around in the complicated mess that was the internet. Jake closed the browser on her phone before slipping it back into her pocket. The attempt had been in vain, anyway. Just like her last search she'd found nothing beyond Shane's favorite movie (_The Four Feathers_) and what alternative career Jason would choose (an astronaut), none of which was very useful.

'That'; he'd been referencing something by his choice of word. An event maybe. Jake frowned thoughtfully. There was a meaning behind what Brown said yet she really had no focal point. She was going at this blind. She sent her hand back into the pocket where her phone sat only to pull it out again. Brown hadn't been issuing her clues; he had been warning her away if anything. Still the curiosity was killing her.

Jake grabbed her phone again and opened the browser. She had a feeling that by the time this was over she'd know more about the band then Mitchie. Footsteps approaching from downstairs foiled any plans, though. Jake quickly grabbed a rag. The last thing she needed was her mom to catch her slacking.

"Oh, Mom, I was-" she started.

"Nice try, mija." Jake's cheeks burned. Connie motioned to the open container nearby. "But that last batch of coleslaw isn't going to finish itself."

Jake groaned. Not even the fact that it was her mom's recipe could make her anxious to stick her hands into coleslaw. She grabbed a new pair of gloves slowly. "You sure we even need this?"

"You don't know the eating skills of teenage boys. And besides, the staff hasn't gotten any yet," Connie calmly retorted.

Jake worked in silence mashing together the sloppy mess. An idea came as her mom walked closer. Jake held out her hands as if she were going to smear the slaw in her mom's face, complete with letting out the best growl she could manage. It didn't work, however; Connie simply chuckled and swiped away Jake's hands. Jake smiled as well, which seemed to make her mom pleased.

"Feeling better I see."

Jake nodded. Tossing the gloves into the trash she added, "Guess smashing the crap out of stuff was what I needed. How'd you know?"

"Mom's intuition." Connie grabbed a nearby spoon to inspect the coleslaw. "Well that, and Mitchie informed me about the pictures."

Jake let out a groan. "Don't remind me, please."

"Oh mija, believe me when I say that standing next to a car with a boy isn't the worse thing to be caught doing. Like back when I was in school there was a girl who went to this party and had to much to drink. She fell over in the yard and-" Connie abruptly stopped and shook her head. "-just, worse things."

Intrigued, Jake raised her eyebrows. "Aw, Mom, now don't leave me hanging."

Connie just kissed her daughter's forehead. "Get that coleslaw out there already."

"Aye aye, boss lady." Avoiding the rag her mom swung her way, Jake picked up the container and headed towards the door.

#

"Hey, you alright?" Nate hadn't even realized Barron had stayed close throughout his encounter with Tess. He'd have thought Barron would surely have made his way to the table already. The other young man now approached Nate and watched him grab a new tray.

_No. _His throat had gone dry, allowing Nate only to manage a simple nod.

"Okay." By his tone Barron didn't sound convinced. Still, he turned. "I'll be at the table."

Nate nodded again and approached the food. Barron took a step to go, then suddenly changed his mind and waited. The action shocked Nate. He couldn't understand why someone would be this, well, considerate towards a stranger. He filled his plate as quickly as possible. His hand stopped at the coleslaw. There wasn't any left.

"Someone usually comes to refill stuff 'round this time," Barron offered. As if on cue the swing door of the kitchen began to open. "Probably them right now."

#

Her back had just leaned against the door when Jake heard her name being called again. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Be sure and put some of that on a plate for Shane before you put it out there, okay?"

Jake groaned. "Right. Heaven forbid he have to go out there and eat with everyone else."

Her comment got a disapproving glance from her mom. "Just do it. And if you see Brown, tell him I'm in the back."

"Brown?" Jake walked towards the counter and grabbed a plate. "Brown's coming here?"

Connie nodded. "We need to discuss tomorrow's jam- thing."

"The Campfire Jam." Jake corrected. Or was it Bonfire Jam? It didn't really matter anyway. "Okay."

"Then take out the trash. Please," Connie finished instructing as she headed out of the room.

Grabbing a spoon, Jake plopped a mound of the disgusting goop onto the plate. Unfortunately she missed the container when trying to throw the spoon back into it, sending the utensil to the floor. Jake made her way to the second counter and grabbed a rag. She bent down to clean up the mess she'd caused. As she did, her hip managed somehow to clang into the collection of bowls and other metal containers on the underneath shelf, sending many to join her and the mess.

_Crap..._

"What in the- good lord, child, what did you do?"

Still on all fours, Jake snapped her head upwards towards the doorway where her mom's assistant now stood. She gave the best forced smile she could as she uttered, "Hi, Ms. Lenore."

"Here, let me..." Lenore began making her way to the mess. Jake flagged her away.

"I can get it." Jake stacked together a couple of the bowls, all of which would now need to be washed.

Lenore stopped just shy of the counter. She motioned to the container Jake had minutes before been carrying. "This for lunch? I'll take it out there for you."

"Oh, yeah, thanks." As Lenore made her way out to the cafeteria, Jake wiped the coleslaw from the floor. She made a face while dumping it into the nearby trashcan; gross. She stacked together the rest of the bowls and such, setting them on the above counter. It appeared she'd now have twice as many dishes to clean before getting started on dinner.

#

"Thanks," Nate muttered towards the lady who had brought out a container of coleslaw. His mission accomplished, he headed back towards the table, this time sticking closer to Barron. The hesitance from earlier returned as they made their way. The others already sitting looked up as they approached.

"Hi," the girl with toffee-colored hair focused her attention on Nate. "I'm Caitlyn."

Nate hesitated, stopping just shy of the table. He felt his mouth go dry which was the usual reaction for when he was alone among strangers. This was such a bad idea, but it was the only one he had now. The tray he was holding shook as he attempted to extend a hand for Caitlyn. He cleared his throat, set down the tray and tried again. Surprisingly she seemed hesitant as she shook it. "Na-"

"Yeah, we heard you talking to the queen bee over there." Nate followed her motion to where Tess was seated. _Queen bee?_

"Don't let cynical Caitlyn scare you off." Nate looked towards the other side of the table and found a tall, thin young lady. This girl gave him a friendly smile and gave a playful jab to Caitlyn's arm. "Really, she doesn't bite. I'm Lola, by the way. And these two goofs are-"

"Barron and Sander," Nate finished for her, finally taking a seat.

Lola blinked. "You know-"

"Yeah. Um, Barron pointed him out." Lola gave a similar response to his hand shake. Somehow he was missing something.

"That's cool," Sander responded in much the same attitude as Barron. He took a bite of food while Nate began to extend his hand. "Naw, dude. Handshakes are too formal, unless you do them right."

Oh; now he understood. Nate lowered his hand and fought the urge to apologize. He wasn't aware there was a right or wrong way of shaking hands. He turned his attention to the sloppy joe occupying his plate.

"So, how come I haven't seen you around here before?" Sander asked.

Nate took his time chewing, needing the extra few moments to come up with an answer. He'd hoped the questions wouldn't come so soon. "I- just arrived. Yes- um, last night I mean."

"Who you rooming with?" Sander continued.

Mentally Nate flinched. "Well... I don't have any. Roommates."

"Really? Wow." Barron spoke this time, clearly impressed. "How'd you get so lucky?"

Nate looked back at his plate, that being all he could think to do without telling another lie. He didn't want to do it, but if they were going to keep asking questions there was no other option. Why were they asking him so much, anyway? His eyes wandered over to the table where Mitchie and the other girls were sitting. She almost looked bored. He diverted his gaze just as she glanced his way.

The table talk continued among the rest of the occupants. Nate listened as they discussed camp activities and traded stories from school. Chewing food gave him a good excuse to avoid speaking. It wasn't as if he had anything to say really. Well, unless they wanted to hear about the new song he and his brothers- Scratch that; they just might. But in no way would he be offering.

"Oh wow, what happened to your hand?" Caitlyn suddenly asked, giving his arm a nudge.

Oh, crap. He'd almost forgotten about the bandage. Nate gulped. He looked at it before responding. "I-well, punched-" _Punched?_ - "well, hit a..." His eyes glanced out the window nearby. "... tree."

"A... tree," Caitlyn repeated unconvinced.

His stomach lurched again. Nate rubbed his pants leg with his good hand, trying to come up with a better explanation. His tablemates were looking at him, waiting. Staring... Instinctually Nate looked up again, this time at the door. It was only a few feet away; if he made a run for it now...

"Yeah, um, stupid." His voice nearly gave out on him, yet Nate managed to let out a nervous laugh. His tablemates continued staring. Nate didn't bother saying anything else, but rather got up and headed towards the front of the cafeteria. He forced himself to keep an even, calm pace as we went. He feet took him towards the side door, yet he fought the urge and instead went to where the drinks were kept.

_Idiot. Why'd you do that? _Placing his hands on the counter, Nate looked over the selections while biting his lip. Why did he always do this? Why'd he always panic? Those people back there had meant him no harm. It had only been an innocent question, yet once again he'd turned it into an interrogation.

Nate let out a long, shaky sigh. This whole 'being social' thing was definitely harder than it looked.

#

"Oh, hello there."

"Hey, Brown." She recognized the voice without needing to see him. Jake stood, the last of the fallen bowls in her hands. Almost cautiously Brown approached and patted her shoulder. Jake offered back a thankful smile. She knew the reason for his action. "I'm better, thanks."

"Good." Brown stepped back. He motioned to the items in her hands. "Got a lot of baking planned?"

"Huh? Oh, no." Jake shrugged and grabbed another of the stacks she'd formed. "Just clumsy."

"Want some help?"

Jake shook her head. "I've got it, thanks."

"Right, well, if you're sure." Seeing Jake's nod of affirmation he then changed focus. "Well then, do you know where your-"

"She told me to tell you she's in the back." Jake pointed towards the door before heading that way herself. Despite her earlier comment, Brown joined suit with the rest. As the two made their way to the dishwashing area, Jake wrestled with whether to say anything. She found herself biting her lip as she set down her load. Clearing her throat, she faced the older gentleman. "Thanks."

"Certainly, dear."

Jake nodded and grabbed the apron from its hook. The earlier curiosity flashed through her mind. She shouldn't say anything. If she were smart, she wouldn't ask.

"Brown?" Obviously she wasn't very smart. Jake waited for a response before turning to face him again. "Just one more thing, please."

"Sure," he replied while stopping in the doorway.

It took her a moment or so to formulate how to lead into her question. "What you were talking about in the cabin this morning, that stuff about which you said it wasn't your place to talk about..." _Okay, that made no sense _Jake swallowed. "How bad was it?"

It took only the briefest of seconds for him to swing back, yet Jake still saw it. The question made Brown slip somewhere else; his face showed her that. The blank, sad look caused her to feel very uncomfortable. It felt like forever before he actually spoke. When he did, he needed to clear his throat. "I'll- see you later today, alright?"

He left her there then. Jake swallowed. It may have been inadvertent, yet he had just answered her question with that reaction. No explanation required. And what it told Jake was that whatever he wasn't discussing, whatever that 'something' was, it had been bad. Very bad.

#

"I'd go with apple," Mitchie suggested upon reaching the beverage counter.

To her surprise the young man she was speaking to visibly jumped. He also seemed to pale, although she couldn't think of a reason why. Recovery took a few moments, yet in a small voice he managed, "Oh."

Mitchie waited until it became obvious he wasn't going to say more. He didn't move, either. His hesitance caused guilt to slip into her gut. "Sorry. Am I bother-"

"No," he replied a little too forcefully, his eyes never looking towards her. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time softer. "Course not."

"Okay. I'm Mitchie, by the way," she offered while also leaning forward slightly to at least attempt looking him in the face.

There was no confirmation. This guy certainly was something else. What Mitchie couldn't figure out was if it was in a good or bad way. She couldn't help but notice the look he'd given when they'd first spotted each other; strangely confused or perhaps even disappointed, an odd thing considering they'd never before met. Then there was the conversation he and Tess had shared. Shortly after he'd jumped up from the table he'd been sitting at as if his seat were in flames. It all seemed off-setting somehow. Even now he appeared on-edge about something. The young man took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his arm. Despite Mitchie's effort, his focus remained off to the side somewhere.

"Haven't seen you around here before," Mitchie tried again. "When'd you arrive?"

Her words jump-started a reaction. He reached a hand towards the row of cups on the counter. It took a second for Mitchie to notice he wasn't actually grabbing one of them, but rather just letting his hand stay out stretched.

"Um, last night," he answered slowly in a way which suggested he was debating what to say. Something was clearly bothering him. Mitchie decided to shake it off; he was probably just shy. Yeah, that was it. No reason to go into her usual conspiracy mindset about it. Coming to camp late had to be intimidating.

"Oh." Just because he was shy didn't mean she wouldn't try again to get him talking. "How are you liking it?"

As if sensing her motive, the young man simply shrugged his shoulders. However, a pair of deep eyes met hers for the briefest of seconds. Before her mind could stop itself, Mitchie blurted, "Huh. Brown."

He paused again, giving her a quizzical look. This was beginning to get awkward. Letting out her best smile, Mitchie motioned to him. "Your eyes. Brown."

Mitchie felt her heart sink again as yet another pause followed. Obviously it was a sign she should give it up and go back to her table. Tess and the other girls would have plenty to say about this anyway. Then, just as she began to turn, a quiet ghost of a chuckle escaped his throat. "Right."

Mitchie looked at him. Was that a smile on his face? The faintest of one in the corner of his mouth appeared. She felt her shoulders relax. Just as quickly they tensed again as Caitlyn appeared. However, the other girl paid no mind to her right off; instead it was towards the young man that she directed her first sentence. "Hey. Why'd you run off like that?"

The smile disappeared. He rubbed the back of his neck a moment then answered. "I... drink."

_I... drink. _It repeated in Mitchie's mind. He sounded like a caveman or something. Thinking that made her feel bad, which was why she stayed silent. Caitlyn too seemed slightly taken aback by his answer, although it seemed for a different reason.

"You already had one on your tray." She motioned towards the table from which they both had come.

"I... Right." He offered no further explanation.

Caitlyn seemed to take this as her cue, first shaking her head towards him then looking towards Mitchie. "You; what are you doing with her?"

Mitchie blinked back surprise. "What?"

"With Tess. What are you doing with her? I thought we were your friends."

Inside Mitchie cringed, while also wondering from where this outburst had come. "We are, Caitlyn. It's just-"

"Just what?" Caitlyn interrupted. "You love borrowing her fancy accessories?"

"No, she doesn't let us touch them." She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Caitlyn's eyebrow shot up, prompting Mitchie to try again. "I-"

"You're good at singing, right?"

Now Mitchie was really confused. "What does that-"

"Word of advice." It suddenly became obvious Caitlyn wasn't in the mood for listening, but rather talking. Mitchie should have known leaving the table to join Tess and the other girls was a mistake. "Tess doesn't like anyone being better than her. There can only be one star. Keep that in mind."

Turning her heel, Caitlyn marched back towards the table. Mitchie shuffled, torn. Caitlyn was probably right, after all. At the same time, she had made a promise. And as unpleasant as Tess was, Mitchie still felt Ella and Peggy were good people if not friends. Sighing she turned towards the young man again. "Sorry about-"

She found herself talking to air, as no one was standing nearby. The young man was gone. Mitchie looked around the room yet found no sign of him. What she did see, however, was the side door making the usual repeat action of banging against the frame it did when someone let it swing close. He must have left through it

Well, Mitchie thought to herself. She may not have known much about this kid, not even his name. But there was one thing she knew for certain; he was very, very odd.


End file.
